Exceptions
by LadySnowTheStark
Summary: When Lady Fitzwilliam enlists the help of the newly widowed and slightly eccentric Lady Diana Herbert to help her future niece, Elizabeth Bennet, transition into London society, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam quickly realizes that eight years is not enough time to erase feelings as powerful as theirs. Regency Era. Colonel/OC, Elizabeth/Darcy (Rated T for safety and major angst)
1. Chapter 1

**Hi, all! I'm trying for a P &P story now simply because I am in love with Darcy (who isn't?) but he's unfortunately taken so I have to fill the void with the next best thing - Colonel Fitzwilliam and an OC! I will be updating weekly, I have about 20 chapters written out and I'm debating on a sequel when I'm done, or maybe just a split in volumes. More to come soon. Enjoy! x**

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"Your fiancé is delightful, William," said Lady Fitzwilliam quietly, smiling at her nephew who was entranced by the vision of Elizabeth Bennet as she played the pianoforte after dinner. "Richard tells me you have a fondness for her playing."

Darcy merely smiled, raising his cup of coffee to his lips and sipping it absently, his eyes never straying from his bride-to-be's form. Next to her, his sister looked at her with equal adoration, turning pages and conversing with her softly. If he could have the vision of the two most important people in his life together thus burned into his mind, he would have had it done in a heartbeat.

"However," his aunt was still speaking. "There is the matter of London."

"London?" Darcy reluctantly tore his gaze away from the ladies and looked at his aunt, a slight frown forming on his features. "What of it, aunt?"

"You will be spending the season there, will you not, after the wedding?"

Darcy grimaced. "Pemberley would be a much better option, and I know El- Miss Bennet would prefer it."

"Be that as it may," his aunt's lips twitched at his slip. "You will want to introduce her to society, will you not?"

"The _ton_ will rip her to shreds, Alexandra," said Lord Fitzwilliam, who had till now remained silent as he enjoyed his future niece's playing. "We know what they are like. Perhaps it would be best if they went to Pemberley directly after."

"William has always been popular in society, dear, and I will not have his fiancé labelled a mercenary simply because her circumstances are not suited to your sister's definition of what a future Darcy should be," said Lady Fitzwilliam, her tone firm. "You will introduce Miss Elizabeth to society after your wedding, William, and that is final. She is a lovely girl, and there are many worthwhile people of appropriate standing that would love her as we do. You have three months to prepare her, do you not?"

"She is a country girl with a sharp wit and a soft heart," Lord Fitzwilliam shook his head. "They will break her spirit. No young woman wants to hear the things they'll say about her."

"She will have the public affection of her husband's family, and that is all that she will need," said Lady Fitzwilliam. "Really, you men make London sound much more horrifying than it is!"

"What are you whispering about, aunt?" came Georgiana's sweet voice. There was a lull in Elizabeth's playing, and Darcy caught her looking at them suspiciously as she searched through the music collection for something else to play. At his look, however, she put the music down and accompanied Georgiana closer to where her family sat. "It is rude to speak when one is playing," continued the younger girl, chiding her brother as she sat by him.

Elizabeth smiled at her future sister's teasing tone, causing Darcy to smile and Lady Fitzwilliam to look at her husband in triumph, as if displaying the extent of Elizabeth's positive effect on her family. The earl, however, still looked unconvinced, and answered Georgiana's question. "We were discussing the plans of Miss Bennet and your brother, dear, after the wedding. They will stay in London, you know."

"They will?" Georgiana looked surprised. "Will you not want to go to Pemberley directly, William?"

Darcy shrugged. "It will be as Miss Elizabeth wishes, of course."

Elizabeth smiled as all eyes turned to her. "You mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy, by putting me in such a spot between your relations," she said lightly. Her dark eyes sparkled when her fiancé looked at her, the ghost of a smile still hovering about his lips. "Naturally, I mean to stand by my promise of making you practice to be sociable. I have never experienced London in the season, and I confess I am curious to see what the _ton_ really is like."

"Its an experience you are better off without, my dear," the earl shook his head.

"Nonsense. You will take callers with me and attend our dinner before the beginning of the season when you come to London for your trousseau, my dear Elizabeth, and you can form your acquaintance there so that you may be slightly more familiar with the _ton_ after your wedding," said Lady Fitzwilliam, waving away her nephew and husband's worries. Darcy, knowing when he was beaten, merely stayed silent the rest of the evening, leaving Elizabeth blissfully unaware of his worry.

 **!**

"She needs more guidance than you can provide her with, Alexandra, and you know that," said Lord Fitzwilliam wearily. "Richard, explain to your mother that she is going to put that girl through unnecessary pain."

Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam looked up from the game of chess he was playing with his older brother and raised an eyebrow at his father. "My dear sir, you are asking _me_ to argue with Lady Fitzwilliam? Even my military prowess does not lend me the courage to do such a thing."

Viscount Henry Fitzwilliam sniggered opposite him, winking at his younger brother as he joined in the conversation. "Indeed, Father, I fail to understand your motive, throwing your son into the path of a far more vicious adversary than Bonaparte himself."

"Hush, you insolent boys," reprimanded Lady Fitzwilliam, though her lips twitched as she continued writing her letter. "Your mother is no fool –"

"Its clear where we get our intelligence from, then," muttered the viscount, causing the colonel to guffaw and his father to throw him a dirty look.

"- and as such I have taken the liberty of inviting a dear friend to the dinner next week," finished Lady Fitzwilliam, as if her son hadn't spoken at all.

"More of the _ton_?" inquired Lord Fitzwilliam sarcastically.

"There is a dinner next week?" asked Henry in confusion. The colonel rolled his eyes.

Lady Fitzwilliam ignored her sons and turned to her husband. "Do be reasonable, my dear, that girl is stronger than we give her credit for if she has caused my nephew to smile in one evening more than I have seen him do so in years." Richard nodded at that, remembering the effect of Miss Bennet on his cousin and close friend before and after his failed first proposal in Kent. "Nevertheless, I do see your point. London society can be cruel, and William has caused quite a stir. When the banns were read, Lady Edith wrote to me and said some foolish girl actually gasped out loud. Hopefully, the dinner will change that."

"Pray tell us, Madam," asked the Colonel curiously. "Who is this friend you speak of?"

Lady Fitzwilliam waved away his question. "Never you mind, Richard, but both of you are expected to be in attendance. Bring along dear Emily as well, Henry," she added, and the viscount nodded in acquiesce. "She will love Miss Elizabeth, I am sure."

"I look forward to meeting this elusive lady myself," confessed the viscount. "You make Darcy sound like a man bewitched, Richard."

"Indeed, I shouldn't be surprised if he was," said Richard, ignoring the look his mother threw his way. "He has the good fortune to marry for love without being concerned for money, which is the only failing I could see in Miss Elizabeth."

"She is a charming girl," agreed Lord Fitzwilliam. The viscount looked a little uncomfortable at his brother's words, but his father ignored them. "Perhaps a bit more headstrong than we are used to, but I suppose to manage Darcy she must be."

"I think she will fit in nicely," said his wife, sealing her letter and ringing the bell to signal for tea. "Now tell me, dear Henry, how is my little granddaughter doing?"

The family lapsed into casual conversation after that, and it was only when Richard was packing up the chess set that his eyes went to the letter his mother had been writing earlier and he began to wonder once more who it was that she seemed to be relying on to solve their problems.


	2. Chapter 2

"Darcy, my good man, lovely to see you again," greeted Viscount Henry as his cousin stepped through the doors of the house. They shook hands and the viscount led him towards the sitting room. "You are incredibly punctual, cousin, I had only just arrived myself."

"It is good to see you, Henry," said Darcy in response, clapping his cousin on the back as they entered the large room. "Is your family here?"

"Emily and the babe are upstairs, she felt the need to rest after the journey and put the child to sleep," there was sparkle in his eye as the viscount spoke of his wife and daughter, being one of the fortunate men of Darcy's knowing who had married for love, though Emily Davenport had had a sizeable fortune as well. Darcy wondered if he looked like that when he spoke of Elizabeth, but a booming voice interrupted his thoughts.

"The man of the hour!" Richard appeared before him, a wide smile on his face as he led Lady Fitzwilliam towards his cousin. "I congratulate you, William, in a tone that I am sure my letter did no justice to. Miss Elizabeth Bennet, indeed!"

Darcy smiled one of his rare smiles and accepted his cousin's warm congratulations, since they had not met since the eventful time at Rosings. "Thank you, Richard. You are well, I hope?"

"Very well!" Richard practically dragged Darcy over to the side of the room, intent of teasing his cousin as much as he could, however Darcy was saved as the sitting room door opened once more and Lady Emily walked in, smiling and followed by none other than his sister and his fiancé, who had both decided to make the journey from Hertfordshire together since Georgiana had been staying at Netherfield following the announcement of the engagement. After them were the two that Darcy had specifically procured an invitation for, Mr. Bingley and his betrothed, the elder Miss Bennet, who no doubt looked angelic with her gentle features. However, it was Elizabeth's bright eyes and smile that Darcy had been dreaming of, though he had seen her only the night before. The realization that those eyes and smiles were now for him and him alone caused a warm feeling to envelop him, which evidently did not go unnoticed by his cousin. Richard chuckled and followed his cousin to go greet the newcomers, stopping only to scoop up one of his young nephews from the floor, the viscount's eldest and only son, Henry.

"You do spoil him so, Richard," reprimanded Emily gently as she passed him. "He really must learn to walk on his own."

Richard merely shrugged, and the young boy giggled happily as they approached the new arrivals. He put the boy on the floor as they were introduced to the elder Miss Bennet, who was all grace and loveliness as she greeted his parents and thanked them for the invitation in a gentle and pretty way, her softness a contrast to her younger sister. Miss Elizabeth was all grins and brightness as she greeted the earl and his wife, allowed Mr. Darcy to kiss her hand and hold it for perhaps longer than strictly appropriate, and then turned to the colonel himself, her smile still bright. "Colonel, how delightful to see you!" she said, offering her hand.

"Miss Elizabeth!" exclaimed Richard, grasping her hand and attempting to convey to her his happiness with the mere gesture. "Had I known in Kent that this would be the result of your frequent arguments with my dear cousin, I would have attempted to instigate them so that this happy event may have come about sooner!"

Elizabeth blushed prettily and said all that was appropriate and then accepted Darcy's arm as he led her towards the other guests, fortunately only family for now since the few people Lady Fitzwilliam had deemed appropriate for the small gathering were to arrive shortly before dinner. There was old Mrs. Davenport, Lady Emily's mother, a strict old widow with no time for smiles. However, her fortune was sizeable, as was her influence, and Richard saw his mother's planning in introducing Elizabeth to the old woman herself. He had no doubt that his cousin-to-be would be a hit with the older women, specially the ones with daughters who had had no designs on Darcy himself. There was also Lady Ellen Carmichael, Lady Fitzwilliam's sister married to a much older man of sizeable fortune and a particularly good taste in company. His uncle was present as well, and both looked curiously, though not unkindly, at the young woman on Darcy's arm.

Richard was stopped from his studying, however, when the doors opened again and two more women entered. He recognized the older one immediately and narrowed his eyes. Mrs. Wilhelmina Harris had the same expression of severity that she had had on her face the last time he had seen her in London two seasons ago, and her greeting had been kind but short. She was dressed in a black dress which was undoubtedly the height of fashion, but Richard noted with some surprise the sparkling diamonds she wore in her ears and at her throat, something he knew with certainty was beyond her modest income since the death of her husband ten years ago. Her expression softened only slightly when his parents approached her, and when she advanced forward to meet them his eyes were drawn to the figure behind her, and he froze in his tracks.

Diana Harris had always been a slight woman, with blue eyes brighter than the sky on a midsummer day, or so Richard had always thought. Her skin was a lovely golden brown colour, thanks to her vacationing in the South of France twice a year since the age of thirteen. Even now, though her skin was paler than the last time he had glimpsed it, it retained its sparkling hue. Her dark hair was piled atop her head simply, but her long neck was on display and covered with a cobweb of diamonds and emeralds that sparkled as she inclined her head and curtseyed to his parents. Her dress was as black as her mother's, which he once again considered odd since she had always detested the colour. Her lips twitched when Emily approached with her son, and Richard saw a glimpse of the seventeen-year-old girl he had once known when she bent down and shook young Henry's hand, giving him a delighted kiss on his cheek when he said something that evidently amused her. As she straightened up, her eyes drifted across the room and landed on him. If he did not know better, he would have thought she was searching for him, which seemed plausible since it was his own home. However, evidently his appearance was a surprise. Her complexion became ashen, and her hands gripped her fan so tightly that he was sure it would break. And it was then that Richard's eyes landed on the single ring on her left hand.

"Richard?" it was his mother's voice. "My dear, do come and say hello instead of staring!"

He snapped out of it immediately, his eyes lingering on Diana's face for only a second longer before he forced a smile onto his face and approached his family. He bowed to both ladies and kissed Mrs. Harris' hand, surprised to see her smile at him when he did so. To Diana, he merely nodded his head stiffly, his eyes hard and yet beseeching her to erase the look of surprise from her face before his mother grew even more suspicious.

As she had always been able to do, Diana understood his glance perfectly and began fiddling with the bracelet she wore, muttering something about it being too tight and gladly accepting Emily's invitation to take a look at it in the other room in case she wanted to remove it.

"Well, well, Richard," Mrs. Harris smiled at him in the same, soft way he was sure he had never seen her do. "You do look well. Your mother told me you are a colonel now. I must say, it is a noble pursuit."

Richard bowed again. "I thank you, madam."

"I am glad that he is home, though," said his mother, resting a hand on his arm softly. "I do wish there had been something to incite him to stay all those years ago," her eyes were sad, and Richard knew exactly what she was talking about.

Evidently, Mrs. Harris did as well, because she briskly changed the topic. "That girl is wild as ever, though you'd think marriage would have tamed her," Mrs. Harris rolled her eyes, indicating the departing back of her daughter. "That bracelet was a wedding present, but I daresay she hasn't worn it since he gave it to her and seems unwilling to wear it even now."

"She will get along splendidly with Darcy's fiancé, Mina," said his mother, linking arms with her old friend and leading her towards the small group that comprised of the two Bennet sisters, their betrotheds and Georgiana. "Elizabeth is from Hertfordshire, and a very pretty and bright young thing."

"Yes, I have heard," said Mrs. Harris dryly. "Your letter was full of praise, Alexandra, though I fail to see her getting along well with my daughter in her current state."

"You mustn't speak so," hushed his mother, and then they were out of earshot and Richard felt his brother touch his shoulder. He turned abruptly and noted the look of sorrow in Henry's eyes.

"You knew," he said flatly.

"Yes," Henry sighed. "I did want to tell you, Richard, but after –"

"I didn't want to know."

"I am sorry," his brother's tone was sincere. "I know you loved her, Richard."

"Eight years is a long time," was all Richard said. His eyes flitted across the room, coming to rest on Darcy and indicating to his cousin everything he could not say. Darcy nodded slightly. "Excuse me," he made for the door, knowing his cousin would follow.

Not ten minutes later, Darcy joined him in the small study adjoining the sitting room, closing the door behind him and frowning when he saw the glass in his cousin's hand. "Richard, please."

"Did you know she was married?" asked Richard, swirling around the contents of his glass and keeping his eyes on the carpet.

"Yes," sighed Darcy. "Her engagement was announced two weeks after you left and she was married soon after since the man's father was ill."

"And have you met him?"

Darcy frowned. "Richard, he -"

"Darcy, I must know. Is he –" the colonel cleared his throat. "That is to say, does he treat her well?"

"Diana married Lord Charles Herbert, but he was merely a viscount then and a month later his father had died and left him to inherit it all. Then –"

"That doesn't answer my question," interrupted Richard. "They are happy? He is kind to her? I know he is rich, Darcy, clearly, but is he a decent fellow?"

Darcy finally lost his temper. "My good man, I know how much you cared for her but you must realize what she did to you! It was unfair, and your concern over her welfare does you credit, but it is—"

"Do not speak ill of her, Darcy."

Darcy sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb in exasperation. "I know you loved her, Richard, and she loved you too. Her reasons for refusing to marry you were baseless and wrong."

"You don't know anything, Darcy," Richard's lips twitched in bitterness as he downed the contents of his glass and indicated for them to leave the room. "We should re-join the others."

Darcy hesitated, but finally nodded and left the room, giving his cousin the space he needed. Richard lingered, his fingers delving into his pocket and caressing the silver watch he wore despite his father's valid concern that it did not suit his regimentals. Nevertheless, he had not taken it off for eight years, and he would not stop now. Squaring his shoulders, he left the room and came face to face with none other than Lady Diana Herbert.

They locked eyes, and he knew he had to approach. Her face was anxious and pale, but she didn't attempt to run away. Stiffly, he made his way towards her, thankful that his sister-in-law was still standing with her. The bracelet was missing. Richard have a small bow. "It is good to see you, my lady."

She paled even more when he spoke. "Y-you as well, Colonel," stammered Diana. Her hands clenched around her fan as she looked anywhere but at his face. "I-I did not know you were in the country."

"Yes," he said simply. Some of his stiffness was melting away at her genuine confusion, however reluctant he was for it to be so, and he smiled at her slightly. "Eight years is a long time."

"Many things can happen," she admitted, her hands once again touching her hair. She blushed slightly when Emily swatted her hands away. "I can't stand these things," she muttered, intending obviously for only her friend to hear, but Richard heard as well and couldn't help but chuckle lightly, causing her blush to deepen.

"Have you met Miss Elizabeth?" he asked, taking pity on her and steering the conversation away.

"Yes," Diana smiled, raising her eyes and meeting his a little hesitantly. "She is quite lovely."

"Quite."

"She reminds me of Diana," said Emily, finally interjecting. She smiled at her friend's look of surprise. "Before you were married and tamed, my dear. Elizabeth is such a free spirit."

"I wouldn't call myself tamed," said Diana, and the fire in her eyes was something that Richard was glad to see had not diminished. "One must act a certain way in certain company, Emily, and fortunately it is an act that I am proud to say I mastered many years ago," at that, she glanced at Richard for only a second before adding, "Had circumstances been different, I doubt I would have had to."

Emily inclined her head slightly, but she was obviously uncomfortable with what Diana had said. Before Richard could speak, dinner was announced and he found himself alone with Diana as Henry came forward and hurriedly took his wife's arm. Richard hesitated for only a second before offering Diana his arm. His grip was feather-light when she took it, and they walked in silence towards the dining hall. He wanted to speak, but as he took in a breath to do just that he felt a light tapping against his arm, a sensation he had not felt in years. Looking down, he saw Diana's eyes fixed on the sight in front of her, but her forefinger was tapping incessantly against his arm. It was a tell-tale habit of hers, and one Richard had almost forgotten about. However, his reaction was automatic: he raised his other hand and rested it gently against her twitching fingers, stopping the movement. The action itself took seconds, but it felt like an age to Richard, until her hand squeezed his arm in the familiar way of recognition and thanks. It was the perfect opportunity to speak, to explain himself. However, as he looked down at her, she looked up at him and he realized there was no need.

She knew.

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 **Uploading a new chapter today so I can stay on schedule. See you next week! x**


	3. Chapter 3

Dinner was lavish, yet comfortable, and the men lingered over their port, perhaps more due to Richard's dawdling than anyone else's. However, Darcy and Bingley were impatient to return to the ladies, and Richard did not begrudge them their happiness. They returned, and Elizabeth was prevailed upon to play while Miss Bennet sang, and then Georgiana played while both sisters hovered near her, Elizabeth keeping her involved in the conversation as she, Miss Bennet, Emily and Diana spoke and laughed. However, despite the fact that Richard was seated next to his mother and very pointedly looking away from the group of women, he couldn't help but notice that Diana did not smile as much as she was wont to, nor did she offer to play or sing, though he knew her voice was beautiful even if her playing was merely tolerable. Determined not to think of it, however, he engaged in conversation with Lady Carmichael about the state of the war, keeping his attention on the kindly woman in front of him rather than the young woman he would much rather be near.

"It is such a pity, isn't it?" Lady Carmichael sighed when there was a pause in their conversation. Richard looked up in confusion at her remark, and she indicated the group of women by the piano. "I remember when Diana would play and sing for us all night long, so many years ago. You and her were always such good friends, were you not, my dear?"

Richard nodded slightly. "Yes, my lady, we were thrown together quite often."

Lady Carmichael smiled sadly. "Yes, I remember. Poor dear, she hasn't smiled like she did as a child in years."

Richard felt his heart stop. "My lady?"

"Her husband," Lady Carmichael said, as if that explained everything, and shook her head.

"Ah," Richard cleared his throat awkwardly. "They are not… happy, then?"

His aunt looked at him in surprise. "Charles was mad for Diana, Richard! Their story is so tragic, do you not know?" when he shook his head, she continued, "First the father dies, typhus you know, and he made much money in the East. Well, seven years pass with her hardly coming to town because of her health. She had no children, and we always thought it truly upset her, she does love children so. And then, of course, when they did come to London she had changed so much we hardly recognized her! To be sure, the _ton_ is never kind, but there is not a breath of scandal around her now, even though we know Mina says some atrocious things and her father… well," Lady Carmichael gave him a pointed look. "But the _real_ tragedy happened not too long ago. I remember Diana came to town a few months ago, to buy new dresses and order new fittings for a sitting room, but she was called back merely a week later. Poor Charles," the old woman sighed again. "His foresight is remarkable, however. Mina wouldn't have liked to be poor, you know, and would have gotten her married off as soon as she was able."

"Aunt Ellen," Richard felt like he couldn't breathe. "Forgive me, but… are you saying Diana is a widow?"

His aunt tutted disapprovingly at his use of Diana's first name, but answered him nevertheless. "I am surprised you did not know any of this, Richard, considering your friendship with her as children. Charles died about three months ago, and Diana came into a fortune of about eight thousand a year. They were very economical, the Herberts, and they've always been a sickly bunch so they were prepared, but it was horrible. The estate is entailed, of course, and the earldom goes to some distant cousin or the other, but he left her a sizeable fortune, all the money his father made in the East I believe, and the cousin has insisted she keep the customary title until she marries again. Mina has taken her in, and they are living in town for now, but they will probably move soon. You know Diana," Lady Carmichael smiled slightly. "She can act very well in front of the _ton_ , but she isn't fit for London no matter what Mina wants."

"Indeed," Richard sat back in his chair weakly, his eyes searching out his cousin who sat not too far away, and who had probably guessed the gist of his conversation with his aunt since he was sure he was as white as Diana had been when she had seen him. Darcy gave him a pointed look, and he understood that _this_ is what his cousin had been trying to tell him. He heaved a small sigh and chanced a glance at Diana, who was sitting quietly and listening to something Georgiana was saying, a small smile on her face but her fidgeting had not stopped. His heart ached.

 **!**

"Well, that was quite successful," said Lady Fitzwilliam, her smile full of satisfaction as she turned back to her remaining guests. Diana had changed out of her dress and discarded her jewels, something her mother evidently disapproved of but did not speak against. She now wore her hair in a relatively simple style, and her dress was still black but plainer. The two women would be spending the night at Fitzwilliam manor, not leaving until the next day since Mrs. Harris did not want to travel to London so late. Hertfordshire was relatively close so the Bennet sisters, their fiancés and Georgiana had no problem staying late, though the viscount and his family had departed a few hours ago along with the Carmichaels and Mrs. Davenport.

They sat in one of the smaller sitting rooms now, and it was only the Hertfordshire party, Richard and Diana along with their hosts. Richard had taken care to sit far away from Diana, even though there were empty seats on either side of her. He thought her eyes had flicked towards him as he sat, but the next moment she was once again staring at the carpet so he dismissed the thought from his mind.

"It was a lovely evening, aunt," offered Georgiana, and there were murmurs of agreement throughout the party. Diana smiled, but did not speak, her eyes fixed on her hands that were folded prettily in front of her. Lady Fitzwilliam gave the girl one last look, which did not go unnoticed by her youngest son, before sitting down near Elizabeth.

"And how was your evening, my dear?" she asked kindly. "You can speak freely here, we are all family."

Diana looked up at that and gave Elizabeth a small smile, and Georgiana squeezed her arm, causing the younger woman to murmur something that seemed to please his mother exceedingly.

"I fail to understand your plan, aunt," said Darcy quietly. "Your invitation towards Mrs. Davenport and Lady Carmichael was expected, but I do not see how this will help. They would have approved regardless of your support."

"Yes, but I wanted Elizabeth to meet Diana and form a friendship with her in public, as I knew they would," Lady Fitzwilliam looked on in triumph when realization dawned on her nephew's face, though everyone else still looked utterly confused.

His father, however, snorted. "Women!"

"I beg your pardon?" Diana looked utterly confused.

"You, my dear, are exactly like my future niece here," said his mother. Richard blinked. "You are both wild and spirited, and that is exactly what the _ton_ hates. The idea of Elizabeth being thrown into a society that will not respect her is not something we want, dearest, and I know only you can help her."

"I- I am sorry, Lady Fitzwilliam, but I still do not understand," Diana stammered again, and Richard's heart clenched at her look of slight fear. He wished he were sitting next to her now, if only to offer her the comfort that he knew his presence would bring her, but he did not dare to move, specially not with Darcy so quick to see his thoughts, and so he looked to his mother to explain.

"I want you to help Miss Elizabeth, my dear," explained Lady Fitzwilliam. "Do not misunderstand me," she added, pointedly looking at her husband and nephew. "She is not a child that we must engage a governess for. Her manners are perfect and she is a gentlewoman, but there are many Lady Catherines in London, and not all of them will merely send scathing letters. Gossip is painful. You thwart gossip like no other, Diana."

"By pretending to be something I am not," said Diana quietly. She looked up, and Richard felt his lips twitch: the fire was back in her eyes. "Miss Elizabeth is stronger than I was, Lady Fitzwilliam. She does not need to pretend to be a member of the _ton_. She is better than them."

"Help her anyway," said his mother firmly. Richard's eyes remained locked on Diana, though by now everyone was looking at Elizabeth, who looked uncomfortable and slightly annoyed at the attention. "You know how to act and what to say, Diana."

Diana hesitated. "Yes, but would you want that?" she was addressing Elizabeth now. "It is all well and good to say everyone should not act as they please in public, Miss Elizabeth, but it is quite another thing to do it. I married well, but I knew what I was getting myself into. Do _you_ know?" her pointed glance at Darcy was not missed.

"I do know," answered Elizabeth. Despite the fact that she seemed slightly confused by the way Lady Fitzwilliam was acting, her voice did not waver. "I care not what society thinks, Lady Herbert, but clearly you all do. I will trust your reasoning. However," her eyes twinkled. "I will not compromise on my walks."

The two Darcys chuckled at that, as did Miss Bennet and Bingley, so Richard knew it was an attempt at a joke to lighten the suddenly tense atmosphere. Despite knowing Elizabeth only a few moments, Diana smiled as well. "I'm sure a fashionable walk through Hyde Park is a fitting compromise. If you would like guidance, Miss Elizabeth, I am more than happy to assist you, of course."

"Could you do away with the Miss Elizabeth, please?" the younger woman rolled her eyes. "Elizabeth will do just fine, or even Lizzie, anything really!"

The room laughed at her annoyed outburst. "Elizabeth it is then," relented Diana. "And please, call me Diana."

As the two women smiled at each other, Richard felt some comfort in knowing that, if nothing else, Diana had gained a friend through the decidedly strange events of that night.

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 **Somehow, these chapters always look longer on Word than they do here...**

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	4. Chapter 4

"Good morning," the soft voice drew Richard out of his reverie, and he nearly spilled the contents of his teacup as he stood up hurriedly as Diana entered the room.

She offered him a wan smile, at which he merely nodded before sitting down, his stiffness from the previous night returning. Diana did not speak, merely accepted a cup of tea from the footman and helped herself to some scones. Richard tried to keep his eyes focused on the letter he was reading, but he could not for the life of him remember what it was about. The familiar scent of jasmine and lavender, a scent he had been sure he would never smell again, was wafting towards him, and he resisted the urge to move closer. Eight years was indeed a long time, but he had quickly realized after a restless night and an agitated morning ride that it was not long enough.

"I hope you slept well, my lady," he said, finally putting away his letter. Diana looked up from the paper napkin she was shredding and merely blinked her large eyes at him, which were as clear as they had been the day he had left. Richard looked away. "You leave for London today, I presume?"

"Yes," Diana said quietly. "My mother is anxious to return."

"But you are not," noted Richard. He saw her surprise at his remark, and hastily retracted. "Forgive me, that was presumptuous."

"Yes, but it was a very correct presumption," she smiled slightly at him in reassurance. "I never enjoyed London, Colonel, if you remember."

It was a hint, and something he had not expected. Had he interpreted her look the previous night at dinner correctly? Did she indeed already know what he dared not say? Unwilling to engage in a conversation he could not dissect later, Richard simply answered, "I do," and returned to his tea.

Mrs. Harris came down not soon after, and gave the colonel a warm smile. "Dear Richard, I wish I could express how lovely it is to see you well. You must miss home terribly when you leave."

"Indeed, madam, but it is a small burden to bear," Richard stood and bowed and the older woman took her seat. "If you will excuse me, ladies, I have business to attend to."

"Of course," smiled Mrs. Harris. "But you must come and see us when you are next in town, Richard. Mustn't he, Ana?" the use of a nickname that was so familiar threw Richard off for a second, and he froze once more as Diana stammered out a response, clearly as shaken as he was. "There, it is settled. You will dine with us, of course?"

"As you wish, madam," said Richard, finally managing to exit the room. He stood outside the doorway for a moment, leaning against the wall and blinking rapidly. The pounding in his chest was something he had not experienced outside of a battle-field, and it made him uneasy. Added to that, old Mina Harris had never looked fondly at his friendship with her daughter, and yet she was warmer than she had ever been when he was a youth. Pushing the thought from his mind, he headed in the direction of the stables, hopefully avoiding Diana Herbert and her mother for an indefinite period of time.

 **!**

"You are trembling, child," Diana's mother poured her another cup of tea and placed it in front of her, sitting down in the colonel's vacant seat and giving her daughter a look. "I know what you're thinking, Diana."

"Indeed, madam, you do not," snapped Diana. She forcefully kept her voice even and ignored the tea in front of her, keeping her gaze fixed on her plate. "You would like to depart soon, I presume? I shall ask John to ready the carriage."

"I would see Alexandra and her husband before leaving, and certainly the colonel will wish to say goodbye," said Mrs. Harris, her tone firm. "Do not be so jittery, Diana, the past is in the past."

"The past?" Diana looked up at her mother in shock. "Mother, that man wanted to _marry_ me, and you _knew_ I wanted to marry him!"

"He left you, child."

"You _made_ him leave me!" Diana stood up from the table in a fit of rage her mother had not seen her display in years. Mina Harris shrunk slightly in her seat, unaccustomed to the passion that emitted from her daughter, so like her father's. "He is a good, kind man who valued my comfort and _your_ approval above all else! He was not rich enough for you, so when he asked you for your blessing you spun a story about _me_ and what _I_ would want to scare him off. Then Charles came along!" Diana sunk into another seat, burying her face into her hands as she felt tears gather in her eyes. "Poor Charles, who deserved the love I could never give him! But he was rich enough, so _of course_ he would be allowed to call on me! I never wanted him," Diana looked up at her mother with eyes full of despair. "How could you, mother?"

Mina drew herself up in a last effort to defend herself. "If Richard cared for you as much as he led you to believe, he would have fought for you, he would have come for you when he had made a name for himself, and yet he did not. Naturally, you had to move on with your life. I did nothing wrong."

Diana looked at her in blatant horror. "Of all the people, _you_ knew how much he loved me, and how much I loved him! I was _mad_ for Richard Fitzwilliam, the whole of London knew that! And yet you let me believe Richard left me without caring about me, without even a thought of me! I married Charles out of spite and began to act like one of the _ton_ , just to show him what I could do and be without him. You _knew_ that! And then Charles died, and I was rich, so you confessed your sins and you've brought me to his home as if that will atone for your mistakes, since I am only allowed to be happy once I have enough money in my pocket! Well, it won't help!" Diana stood up from her chair and stormed from the room. "John! The carriage!" her harsh tone was probably heard around the house as she walked briskly towards her rooms.

 **!**

"I do wish you'd stay another day," sighed Lady Fitzwilliam as she hugged her friend tightly.

Mina's smile was forced as she returned the gesture of affection. "My daughter is in charge, Alexandra. I go where she goes."

Next to the two women, Lord Fitzwilliam patted Diana's hand with a fatherly affection he had shown her since the first day she had curtseyed to him when she was barely sixteen. "You look after yourself, all right?" his eyes twinkled as he looked down at her slightly forced smile. "And don't let Mina bring you down. We'll be in London soon enough, and then you must play for me every afternoon."

"Of course," Diana smiled the first real smile she had in a long time as she squeezed the earl's hand with affection. "Thank you, Lord Fitzwilliam."

"Always, child, always. Your father would be proud, you know," he said suddenly. "He never wanted this for you. He wanted your happiness."

"Happiness is relative to the person experiencing it, my lord," Diana curtseyed and allowed herself to be helped into the carriage. She smiled at the old man from the window as the groom settled into his seat. "For some, contentment will suffice. Goodbye!" she waved as the carriage drove away. Barely a second later, Richard came up the path.

"You just missed Diana and Mina, dear," said Lady Fitzwilliam as she turned to greet her son.

"I am sorry. I hope their journey is comfortable," Richard's stiff tone was lost on both his parents as they walked back to the house. Once inside, his hand automatically went to his silver watch again, and he winced. Unable to resist any longer, Richard took it out of his pocket and propped the back open easily with a small twist. The false back had just enough room for a small picture, a miniature portrait of a young woman was bright eyes and dark hair. He thought of Diana at seventeen, when she had given him the miniature for good luck when he had gone to ask Mina Harris for her daughter's hand in marriage. He supposed he ought to have returned it, but for a young man off to see the world, the face of a beautiful and beloved woman was all he could ask for, and he had not regretted his decision.

Mina Harris had not refused her consent, of course, but her counter-argument had caused young Richard Fitzwilliam to feel guilt the likes of which he doubted he would ever feel again. The younger son of an earl, with no money, lands or titles to his name, marry Diana Harris? Of modest means she may be, the unfortunate heir to a father who had died in debt and disgrace, and yet her very aura had screamed that she was made for great things in the world. Could he do that to her? Bring her down, the woman who at sixteen could charm all men with merely a look? No, he could not. He had not only known the perfectly groomed Diana that Mina had shown the world, he had known the _real_ Diana. The girl who was afraid of the dark, who jumped at loud noises, whose eyes welled up when she saw a dog beaten away from a butcher's shop. The girl who could dance all night and still wake for morning service, the girl who defied her mother at every turn and yet loved her with a burning passion, the girl who saved her friends from rascals and forgave but never forgot the deeds of her enemies. Diana Harris, twenty-year-old Richard Fitzwilliam had realized with a sinking heart, was too good for him.

And so he left.

Nobody had known of their attachment, which was something Richard would forever be grateful for since it caused less damage to her reputation. He had written to his brother and Darcy, both the only two who knew clearly of his affection, and had given them strict orders to erase her from their memories: as far as he was concerned, Diana Harris no longer existed. Clearly, both men had thought she had rejected him, and Richard was content to let them think that. He did not want them to think ill of Diana, and he supposed if she was to be so close to the future Mrs. Darcy, at least his cousin deserved to know the truth, but he was hesitant. He was no coward, but his actions with Diana could easily be interpreted as such, and after those first few months without her, he had been unwilling to divulge any more information.

It had been hard, spending so many months abroad without knowledge of her well-being or whereabouts. He had been meaning to go on holiday, and had joined his parents in France a week earlier than they expected simply because he knew he needed to escape. He was not surprised her marriage had taken place so soon after his departure: he knew Mina Harris would have used every means within her power to get her daughter settled lest he come back and steal her away. Her affection for him had been obvious, fortunately not so obvious to London as it had been to those close to them, and her love for him had been the one thing Richard had never doubted in his life. _His_ love for her had seemed weak in comparison, but he had been the one with the strength to walk away. He regretted his decision every day of his life, and yet given the chance he knew he would do it all over again. A soldier's wife was not Diana's future. The wife of an earl was still a compromise, but it would suffice.

But she was a widow now. Richard's heart ached when he saw the dull eyes, the pale skin, the frown lines on her forehead, so different from the girl he remembered, the girl whose likeness he had carried with him for eight years. Could she have changed so much, and because of him? Or was it because of the husband she had loved more than she had loved him? Did she even still love him? He was afraid of the answers, not knowing if her sadness should make him glad or cause him pain.

"Richard?" it was his mother. He snapped his watch shut immediately and looked up at her. Her eyes were confused. "It is time for luncheon, my dear."

"I think I will forgo the meal, mother. I feel quite tired after your excellent wine last night," he attempted to smile with his usual humour, but he suspected his mother was not fooled. She frowned, and he hurriedly bowed. "I will take some tea in my rooms, if you would be so kind as to ring for it. I will join you for dinner. Is Henry still coming?"

"Yes," said Lady Fitzwilliam, her eyes never leaving her son's form as he began to ascend the stairs. "Richard, are you quite well?" she called out suddenly.

Richard resisted the urge to sigh. He still did not know how, of all people, his mother had remained in the dark about his attachment to Diana. It would not do to put ideas into her head now. He merely nodded, and she seemed slightly appeased, at which point he gratefully escaped to his rooms and tried very hard not to let the desire to ride to London that very moment cloud his judgement.

* * *

 **Happy weeking! Thank you for the lovely reviews and comments, hopefully you like my characters as much as I do. Once the story heats up a little I'll start responding to individual reviewers since you will all (no doubt!) have many questions. Till then, ta! xx**


	5. Chapter 5

"I hope my aunt did not offend you, Lizzie," murmured Darcy as they walked along the familiar path towards Meryton.

Elizabeth shook her head, squeezing Darcy's arm slightly as they lagged behind her sisters, Georgiana and Bingley. "She means well, and I am glad she is trying so hard to make me comfortable."

"Indeed," Darcy was quiet, and then finally asked the question Elizabeth knew was coming. "And what did you think of Lady Herbert?"

Elizabeth shook her head smilingly. "Come now, William, we both know I am much too intelligent for this. You do not like her, and you will not tell me why. Her face when she saw the colonel was white as a sheet. I take it they were acquainted at one point?"

Darcy sighed, but he was unwilling to keep a secret he knew might effect Elizabeth eventually. "Richard wanted to marry her, and those of us who knew her believed she was very much in love him. But her mother, as you would have noticed, did not approve," Darcy winced. "The day he proposed, he went off join his his parents in France a week early and Diana was engaged to Charles Herbert soon after. We never told him of the engagement and he never asked but I assume they parted ill, since he joined his new regiment once he returned and never spoke of her again."

"You assume she rejected him for a viscount?" asked Elizabeth. Darcy nodded. She sighed. "If that is indeed true, it is sad. I believed my character sketches were improving, and I thought her to be a very pleasant woman."

"She is pleasant, no doubt, my dear, and yet I am not sure the idea of her spending so much time with you sits well with me."

"If you would rather I do not seek her guidance, I will not," said Elizabeth. Darcy raised his eyebrows at her easy submission, and she laughed at his expression. "Mr. Darcy, my affection for the colonel outstrips my need to please London society. You do not care what they say, and neither do I, and yet I fear for the sake of our future family I should attempt to make a tolerable impression, at least."

"I will speak to Richard," said Darcy finally. "I would not have you lost and alone in London, Lizzie. Diana may be many things, but her reputation is immaculate. Hardly anyone remembers where she started out, and it is all because of the way she has been acting since he left."

"And in addition to that, we must remember that London society is not to be trusted," said Elizabeth thoughtfully. "Diana may have been a woman who chose fortune over your excellent cousin, or she may have been a child who was led astray. Her mother, I believe, is much like mine, only not as easy to laugh at," Elizabeth wrinkled her nose slightly, and Darcy chuckled at her comparison. "She reminded me of your dear aunt a bit too much."

"She has always wanted more for Diana, certainly more than Richard could ever give her," admitted Darcy.

Elizabeth squeezed his arm. "Then it is settled. You will speak to your cousin, and until then I will open a book on etiquette and try to resist the urge to climb the next tree we come across!"

Darcy laughed at that, stopping Elizabeth in her tracks and caressing her cheek softly. "I would rather have you climbing trees in Pemberley and roaming around with muddy skirts than all the fashionable ladies in London, my darling."

Elizabeth smiled and grasped his hand in her own as they began walking again. "I know, dearest, I know."

 **!**

"I'm worried about Richard," said Lady Fitzwilliam as she gazed sadly at her folded hands. Her youngest son had ridden out that morning, returned after breakfast and had merely had a cup of tea before riding out again, claiming to have some business at the market in town.

Henry sighed. "He is well, mother. He is a soldier, after all. Perhaps he is restless."

"Perhaps," conceded his mother. "A change in scene would do us all good, after all. Darcy and Elizabeth arrive in town in two weeks, do they not?"

"Yes. Do you and father still plan to attend the wedding as well?"

"Of course. And you must attend with us, though I suppose we may spare Emily and the children. Richard has already asked Darcy to let rooms for us."

Henry raised his eyebrows. "A country wedding?"

"I am curious to see where Elizabeth grew up, I confess," Lady Fitzwilliam smiled slightly. "She does remind me so much of Diana, when she was a girl. I do wish…" she trailed off, shaking her head and sighing.

"Wish what?" asked Henry finally, knowing his mother wanted an ear.

"I do wish the rumours about her and Richard had been true," she did not raise her eyes at her admission, and Henry managed to school his features into those of mild interest when she finally did look up. "I received so many letters when we were in France, but by the time your brother joined us, he denied all of it and then when news of Diana's engagement reached us I assumed he was right. Now, however, I am not so sure."

"And why is that?" Henry fought to keep his tone disinterested.

"Because of the way he looked at her, of course, and the way he has been acting since. He is very much affected by her presence, that much is clear. I do not know about her though, Diana has always been very difficult to read for everyone."

"Except Richard," blurted out Henry, immediately cursing himself when he saw his mother's eyes glint.

"Yes, I always did want their friendship to become more. They wouldn't be as affluent as she is now, to be sure, but he would have made her happy."

"She was happy with Lord Herbert, was she not?"

Lady Fitzwilliam shrugged. "He was a private man, and they rarely socialised after the death of his father. A few balls are hardly enough to gauge the happiness of a couple, though to be sure he loved her immensely, London never saw a man so besotted. She did not have children though," she shook her head sadly. "Poor girl, she needs more love in her life. Mina is crushing her."

"Mrs. Harris has always had that effect on people," Henry smiled grimly. "I fail to understand how you are friends with her."

"Her husband and your father had been friends since their school days, and Mina was a sweet girl when they first married. The years have made her hard, and being poor did not suit her. Those diamonds, however, did," Lady Fitzwilliam let out an incredibly un-ladylike snort. "No doubt a present from the son-in-law she would not stop speaking of."

Henry hummed in agreement, refraining from speaking when he heard the quick tread of his brother coming near. Lady Fitzwilliam turned to the door with a smile, her eyes hopeful. However, the Richard that greeted them was as stoic as he had been since the dinner with the Hertfordshire party. Henry watched him closely, and the more he saw the more he realized that his mother was right. Richard was rowdy and spirited, and conversation was never an effort with him. Now, however, he sat near the window and fiddled with either his watch or a book, his eyes restless and his forehead puckered in a constant frown.

"Richard, my dear," his mother's voice jolted him out of his reverie. The expression on her face told him she had been noticing the same things he had. "You are quite free, are you not, until the wedding?"

"Yes, mamma," answered Richard, raising an eyebrow questioningly. "Do you have a task for me?"

"I was hoping you could go to town and perhaps air out the house," the request was so natural and, indeed, so valid that Henry was not surprised when his brother nodded easily. "Emily has two children now, so I do not want to task her with it. With your supervision, when Elizabeth arrives in London I will be able to follow her and plan the dinner as I see fit."

Richard nodded. "Of course. If you will give me letters for the housekeeper and butler, I will depart tomorrow and await your arrival in London."

"Thank you, my darling," Lady Fitzwilliam siled, easily appeased. Then, as if the thought had just struck her, which Henry knew perfectly well it had not, she rummaged in her drawers and removed a letter, holding it out to Richard. "If you could deliver that to Mayfair for me as well, that would be lovely."

Richard came forward to take it, his eyes glancing at the address. His expression was unreadable when he registered what was written. "Lady Herbert?" the stiffness with which he said her name was not lost on his brother and mother, though neither commented. Richard accepted the letter, his hesitation only brief. "Certainly. Is it of some consequence?"

"It's a letter for Mina from myself and a wedding invitation for the two of them. Elizabeth wrote to me and desired that I invite both of them to the wedding. She says there are rooms at Netherfield enough, and since you wish to depart from London to Hertfordshire with Darcy you can certainly bring both of them along, can you not?" her son hesitated, but Lady Fitzwilliam's smile was exuberant, and he relented, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Excellent! Oh, this is so thrilling. I _have_ missed Diana so."

"Lady Herbert is in mourning, mother," reminded Richard quietly. "I will, of course, give her your message saying that she need not trouble herself if she feels she cannot attend?"

Lady Fitzwilliam waved away his concerns. "You may, dear, but the wedding is in September and she will have _just_ finished her mourning, so I see no problem with it. The Herbert women only mourn for eight months, you know."

Richard did not speak, merely pocketed the letter and made his excuses, saying he needed to pack and get his horse ready for the journey. Once he left the room, Henry raised his eyebrows at his mother. "Lady Alexandra Fitzwilliam, you are a matchmaker."

His mother shook her head. "I am a mother, Henry, and I have seen my son alone for entirely too long. Nothing may come of it, but I am determined to try."

"As you wish, madam," said Henry, returning to his book and hoping that, whatever may come of it, it would at least make his brother happy.

* * *

 **Hello, all! Thank you for the lovely reviews and encouragement, I'm so glad you like my portrayal of Colonel Fitzwilliam and Diana as a character on her own as well. As far as any historical inaccuracies may go, please forgive them! I hope the eight months mourning clears up any confusion, though, I'm trying to keep it as realistic as I can but I'm no Regency expert so I may write the wrong thing inadvertently. Sorry! Much love xx**


	6. Chapter 6

"Good evening, Lady Diana."

Diana merely nodded at the butler, who in turn bowed and called for a maid to come and attend to the ladies. The girl scurried forward and Diana worked mechanically, shedding her outerwear and immediately climbing the stairs towards her own room. Her mother made a noise of disapproval as she was left behind, but Diana ignored her, as she had been ignoring her since they left Fitzwilliam manor. Her head was pounding, and she gave a short order to be not be disturbed and a tray sent up to her, and then she was finally alone.

Diana sank to the ground slowly, her back against the closed door. She didn't even bother to take off her shoes or undo her hair. She merely buried her face into her hands and began sobbing uncontrollably. Had she cried this much when her husband, a good man with a wonderful temper and eyes full of love for her, had died? She knew she hadn't. She was still in mourning to atone for that sin, since she did not feel the grief she knew any woman with feeling would have experienced at the death of such an excellent companion. Charles had been everything her mother had wanted for her, and yet Diana had never been able to even tell him that she loved him.

Her disregard for his money and titles had shown him that she certainly did not care that he was rich, and yet affection was not what had led her to accept him. Circumstances had very soon made him realize that his young wife was more heartbroken than she would let on, but he had never questioned her, had never even pushed her to confess feelings he knew she did not have. Eight years had passed comfortably, and Diana had resigned herself to a life of contentment. Her last chance at happiness had sailed away the day before she formally met Charles, and she had known he would not come back. And now, she knew why he had not.

Diana had always considered herself to be a forgiving person, and yet, as her thoughts drifted to that day, she knew she could never forgive her mother for what she had done.

 **!**

They were sitting in the formal parlour, her mother's room of choice. Mina was busy answering a letter from Alexandra Fitzwilliam and Diana quietly reading a book. Once the letter was done, Mina dropped her pen and started speaking, her voice quiet.

"Richard is in England these days, you know," Diana winced and looked up slowly, unwilling to revisit a topic that still caused her as much pain as it had eight years ago. She had met Alexandra Fitzwilliam and her husband plenty of times since her marriage, had visited her daughter-in-law and formed a friendship with her, and yet the person she dreaded seeing was always overseas. Despite the look on her face, her mother continued. "He was barely twenty and the second son of an earl, and you were seventeen and a known beauty. You could have had any man you wanted, but you had always been too caught up with him to give anyone else the attention they deserved."

"Mother, please," Diana closed her book and rested her forehead against her hand. "Eight years is not nearly long enough, and I do not wish to speak of this."

"You never stopped caring for him, did you?" Mina sounded pained. "Your husband was an excellent man, yet you never looked at him the way I saw you look at Richard."

"My husband, God rest his soul, deserved more love than I could give him," said Diana quietly. "I don't see why you have brought this up now, mother. Richard left me all those years ago."

"Richard came to ask for your hand the morning his ship sailed."

Diana froze. Her heart stopped for a second, then it began beating again faster than it had beaten in years. She could feel the blood rush through her veins, her ears were burning and her eyes were misting over. She was suddenly in so much pain that she doubted she could continue sitting. Richard had asked for her? She recalled vividly the day he had proposed, her blind happiness, his promise to go see her mother immediately, her reassurance that she would understand… Blindly, she stood up and turned towards the door, unwilling to hear more and yet dying to know what her mother was going to say. She collapsed into her chair seconds after standing, her head spinning with a ferocity she had never experienced before. A cool hand touched her forehead, and she saw the concerned face of her mother looking down at her. Her expression told Diana everything she needed to know.

"You refused," she choked out. Mrs. Harris looked away. Diana let out a sound that was between a moan and a wail and buried her face into her hands, the tears falling freely now.

"I told him the truth," Mina's voice was strong, but she had backed away now and was sitting in her own chair, as always uncomfortable with her daughter's emotions. "You were meant for greater things than the wife of a soldier or, heaven forbid, a clergyman. Richard knew this, and when I had explained to him that love was not enough, he saw things my way. You would never have been happy with him, Diana."

"I loved him," whispered Diana, shaking her head at her mother's words. They hadn't surprised her, not after she had seen her harass Charles' lawyers mere hours after his death to find out how much was left for his wife. Her mother was relentless and ambitious, but Diana had never thought her cruel. "Richard was the only man I could ever love, mother. I would have been a beggar on the streets with him."

"You don't mean that," snapped Mina. "You were always too dramatic."

"I _do_ mean it!" insisted Diana. She sat up in her chair and ignored the throbbing in her head. "We both know I married Charles to spite Richard, because I thought he didn't love me and he had left me, and you let me think that! It was horribly unfair to Charles, mother."

"Be that as it may, it was done," said her mother briskly. She returned to her embroidery. "Alexandra has invited us to dine with her. Darcy is engaged, and she would like to introduce you to her. Richard will not be there, when she last wrote he was in Kent. He's supposed to make a match with his cousin, you know."

Diana snorted, momentarily forgetting her pain at the thought. "Lady Catherine's daughter? The poor girl was meant for Darcy, was she not?"

"Richard could do worse."

"Richard can do better," Diana stood up, her anger melting into heartache. "I will take a tray in my room. I do not want to go to this dinner, you may go and make my excuses. I am in _mourning_ , mother."

"We have always accepted the Fitzwilliams as family, do not forget the service Lord Fitzwilliam did us when we came to London without a penny to our names," snapped her mother. "You will go to this dinner because you owe them your presence and your help. London society will not discredit you or your name for visiting the home of my closest friend."

Diana closed her eyes and ran a hand over her face wearily. "I will think about it," she said finally. Biting her lip, she slowly headed towards the door.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, you know," her mother's voice was so soft that Diana froze her in her tracks, her hand resting on the door handle. "I knew you could do better, and I was right. I did not know you cared for him so much."

Diana sighed and left the room.

 **!**

Her mother had had her way in the end, and Diana had dressed up and packed a bag and gone to Fitzwilliam manor, her heart in her throat because she _knew_ he would be there. Did he remember her? It was a question that had haunted her since the day he left: had he left because he did not want to marry her? Had she misunderstood his proposal? Misread his preference for her? No, she knew Richard Fitzwilliam. He had loved her and he had asked her to marry him, and he had taken the miniature as good luck, kissing it reverently in a way that had made Diana want to ask for a kiss as well, but she had not. She had merely smiled and blushed and almost cried with joy, her heart so full of happiness that she doubted she would ever be that happy again.

She had been right.

She had been worried, at first, that he would be angry at her when they met. She knew he had gone to protect her, to spare her feelings. Perhaps it should irk her that he had not even explained himself, but Diana knew that Richard knew her, _really_ knew her. She would not have let him go, not without a fight and a possible scandal. His quiet departure had broken her heart, and Diana had never been able to trust again, but she could not blame him.

His expression when he had seen her had said it all. He was shocked, but not unhappy. Diana couldn't understand whether _she_ was unhappy or happy. She had had a constant headache since her mother's confession, and even now she merely leaned her head back against the door and closed her eyes, praying that sleep would take her so she no longer had to think of Richard Fitzwilliam's eyes as they followed her across the room.

* * *

 **Bit of a filler chapter so I'll be uploading another one this weekend to make up for it. Do let me know what you think, and I'm so glad you're all enjoying the story! :) xx**


	7. Chapter 7

_Richard,_

 _I received your letter about the truth behind your attachment to Lady Herbert, and I must say, cousin, that I do not know whether to call you uncommonly stupid or uncommonly brave. That you were willing to give up a love I know you have not forgotten to this day is indeed beyond my comprehension._

 _However, your explanation puts many fears to rest. Elizabeth and myself were both unwilling to abide by Aunt Alexandra's plan, since from all I knew of Lady Herbert I felt it would be uncomfortable for you if she and Elizabeth were to grow close. Frankly, I confessed myself troubled with her as well, though on that respect I suppose my mind is now at ease. I will only say, cousin, that you should think long and hard about what you want to do now, since you are only fooling yourself if you think her company does not affect you in a way that you are perhaps unable to describe fully as yet._

 _I will address all further correspondence to Fitzwilliam House in town. I look forward to seeing you in London soon._

 _Yours, etc._

 _Fitzwilliam Darcy._

Richard put the letter down and sipped his tea, unwilling to dwell on the last part of the message. Instead, he breathed a sigh of relief when he realized he had done the right thing by writing to Darcy before he left Fitzwilliam manor. His cousin's loyalty knew no bounds, and he had no doubt he would have shunned Diana and her help completely if he felt it to be insensitive to Richard in any way. On that point, he was glad they were accepting her help: he had heard from the butler that there was scarcely anything on the minds of the _ton_ except the future Mrs. Darcy. Caroline Bingley, who was to be the sister-in-law of the elder Miss Bennet, was certainly not helping matters, her tone malicious as ever when she spoke of the Bennets and their lifestyle. Wickham's name had not yet appeared, though Richard supposed it would not be long before Lydia's elopement would also be brought into the mix.

His mind went to his plans for the day. He had delivered his mother's instructions to the housekeeper, and other than overseeing some minor changes to the spare rooms, he had not much else to do. The letter and wedding invitation were still in his pocket-book, and he realized he would have to depart soon and deliver them. The thought of seeing Diana in her new home with the finery he knew she deserved made him uneasy. He had left willingly, knowing that that was to be her future, and yet the thought of her eight years in the company of a man he suspected, nay, _hoped,_ she did not love was something he would never be able to come to terms with.

 **!**

Diana had barely been awake for a few hours when a visitor was announced. Within the confines of her own home, she was known to prefer things a certain way. The maids murmured that their mistress slept at odd times, often reading late into the night. She had a habit of hiding in her private sitting-room at the back of the house when guests came to call. Her hair was wild and free more often than it was not, and she was wont to sit in the parlour, in her best dress, barefoot. Of course, none of it was confirmed since Diana was the picture of elegance when they fluttered past her in the corridors and on their way to the kitchens. To be sure, she smiled more than the other ladies, and was known to pop a half-crown into the hand of anyone who so much as curtseyed to her in the hallway, but her public exhibitions of strangeness ended there. The housekeeper and her personal maid were the only two who saw her peculiar habits more often than not, but old Mrs. Hull was loyal to the bone and would do nothing but sing praises of the woman her master had married, and Sarah was too timid to speak at all, so gossip was at an all time low in the Herbert household.

On this morning, Diana had just washed her hair and was letting it dry naturally as she lay on the divan in her sitting room, which seemed worlds away from the formal parlour she knew her mother was entertaining in. Diana had told the maids to say she was ill, and to strictly keep all visitors out of her way. So, when a sharp knock sounded on her door and her own ladies' maid, Sarah, poked her head in, Diana knew something was wrong.

"Come in, dear," Diana sat up wearily and ran a hand through her damp tresses. "I suppose you've come to put that wretched cap on my head, have you?"

"Only to make you presentable, mum," said Sarah, and Diana noticed a small pile in her arms.

She frowned as Sarah hurriedly began to put her hair up in a loose bun. She slipped her feet into her shoes and accepted her shawl from the girl, raising her eyebrows when she finally came into view again. "Well, child, what is it? Has my mother found me out?"

"No, mum, Mrs. Harris is still in the parlour. A gentleman is here, mum, and he sent in a letter and would have left but Mrs. Harris saw him from the window and bid him enter. He's waiting in the hall for you, mum."

"A gentleman?" Diana frowned, getting to her feet and making her way towards the door. "I fail to understand you, Sarah. I did not want to be disturbed."

"Please, mum," Sarah hesitated, and Diana almost rolled her eyes, turning to face her in annoyance. Sarah had been a housemaid at her old house, before she was married, and had willingly volunteered to leave with her when she had left for Herbert Manor. Diana loved her immensely, but the girl's timidity had not ended despite the long association. "Its –"

"Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam," announced a footman loudly, his voice shocking Diana out of her wits. She jumped a foot in the air and turned around sharply, only to see Richard enter the room looking entirely uncomfortable and slightly annoyed. She froze for a second, and it was only Sarah's bobbed curtsey and hasty exit from the room that made her come to her senses. She returned the colonel's bow shakily, and indicated for him to sit, which he did.

She was tongue-tied for a moment, but fortunately he broke the tension. "I apologise, my lady, I did not mean to impose," his tone was so stiff and formal that Diana looked up in surprise, a look she knew he had caught before she could school her expression. Other than a softening of his eyes, he gave no indication that he had noticed. "Your mother saw me as I left and insisted that I come inside."

"Its no trouble. I was merely reading," she gestured to the abandoned book lying by her side, picking it up and fiddling with the cover nervously. "It is good to see you," she blurted out, cursing herself for not thinking when she saw surprise flicker across his face. "The weather is uncommonly fine. Did you just reach London?" she asked quickly, hoping he would ignore her slip.

Richard took her hint and nodded at her question. "Only just. My mother entrusted me with a letter for Mrs. Harris and a wedding invitation for you both."

"Wedding?" asked Diana, a little too sharply. Had her mother not been wrong, then, when she had spoken of Anne de Bourgh and Richard's apparent engagement?

His eyebrows shot up at her tone. "Yes, between my cousin and Miss Elizabeth, of course."

"Oh," Diana blinked, the rushing thoughts in her head immediately calming at his statement. "That – that is very generous of Miss Elizabeth."

"Indeed. As of yet, nothing is confirmed but I am in town until then and I will be travelling to Hertfordshire in advance of the wedding. Miss Elizabeth has already made arrangements for you and your mother to stay in Mr. Bingley's home and I will accompany you, if you should wish it."

"That is very kind of you, Colonel, thank you." It _was_ kind. Diana had no doubt that her presence, and that of her mother, brought about memories Richard would rather forget, yet there was nothing in his tone that even suggested the idea made him uncomfortable. She smiled slightly, and the slight twitch of his lips and further softening of his eyes told her he appreciated her recognition. They would never be as free as they once were with each other, but the small feeling of happiness Diana got just by being around him was back, as if he had never left.

They lapsed into silence at that, and the entrance of a footman with tea finally gave Diana something to do. She sent a quick prayer of thanks to Mrs. Hull and had barely taken a sip from her cup when her mother walked in. She winced, an action that did not go unnoticed by the colonel, though her mother was blissfully unaware.

"Richard! How delightful to see you," her mother's voice was kinder than it had ever been, and Diana knew Richard had noticed. Suddenly, she felt like a seventeen-year-old child again, anxious for her mother to approve of the man she had fallen in love with. She was still anxious, but she realized she no longer wanted her mother's approval. Indeed, at that moment she wanted to be anywhere but in the room with the woman who had ruined her chance of happiness with the only man she would ever love.

 **!**

"You were uncommonly quiet," commented her mother as they sat at dinner. Diana did not respond, merely ate another mouthful and kept her gaze fixed on her plate. It was a vain hope that her mother would simply stop speaking. "He came to us as soon as he reached London, you know."

"I know," said Diana shortly.

"And he offered to take us to Hertfordshire in his carriage as well!"

"Yes, he did."

"Are you not glad, my dear?"

"It does not matter."

"Don't be ridiculous, child," huffed her mother. "You say you love him, and yet his attentions do not make you glad at all!"

Diana snorted, pushing her plate away and meeting her mother's gaze head on. "I am neither glad nor sad, mother. I am mourning my husband, the man I lived with for eight years without being able to feel _anything_ except a vague contentment. Now, the man I was in love with has come back into my life, and you seem _adamant_ at making him stay there. Pray, what is your motive? Has Richard come into a fortune since I last saw him? Is the viscount dying, and he is now heir to the earldom? Or perhaps the military is now a respectable career choice for your daughter's suitor, now that she is five and twenty and a widow with more money than she can spare?"

She did not wait for her mother's response, merely pushed herself away from the small table they had been eating at and departed from the room, ignoring the curious looks from the footmen outside the door. The room was soundproof, and she had not raised her voice, so she knew she was safe. Her relationship with her mother was tense at best, and she had never cared what gossip was said on that front since it was all true. She could not stand Mina Harris, not because she was materialistic and proud, but because Diana knew she was proud _of_ her and materialistic _for_ her, and that had always made her uneasy.

* * *

 **Not the confrontation we were all hoping for but I assure you it will happen eventually. I received a review saying this story had a very _Persuasion_ feel to it and I just realized it does! I can't complain, of course, but I aim to make Diana as little like Anne as I can, but Richard and Wentworth can have EVERYTHING in common as far as I'm concerned ;)**

 **Much love! Hope you enjoy this short addition, see you next week! x**


	8. Chapter 8

"Please, mum, Mrs. Harris says she would like a tray in her room and not to wait for her for dinner," murmured Sarah, poking her head into the sitting room where once again her mistress sat with open hair and a book she would not read. Timid though she was, Sarah had been Lady Diana's constant companion and maid for too long to not know when something was troubling her. When the dark-haired woman did not even answer her, Sarah closed the door and stepped inside, which finally caused her mistress to look up.

"Yes, alright, Sarah," her tone was weary. "Did she say why?"

"She says she is ill, mum."

Diana frowned. "Have Cook make her some broth and get one of the maids to sit up with her tonight in case she feels ill after bed."

"Yes, mum," Sarah tried to hide the surprise in her tone, but did not succeed. No one knew better than she how often the mistress and her mother butted heads, and yet Diana would rush to her mother's bedside and stay up with her all night if she so much as sneezed or complained of a pain in her ankles. The request for a maid was common in most households, but not in theirs. Sarah realized she would have to speak up. "Forgive me, mum, but I couldn't help but notice –"

"- that Richard Fitzwilliam came to see me last week?" Diana smiled, a little bitterly. "I have been waiting for you to ask me, Sarah."

"I apologize for the impertinence, mum, but –"

"Oh, for Heaven's sake, Sarah," said Diana exasperatedly. "You'd think after being removed from my mother's influence for well over eight years you would finally stop thinking you're taking liberties with me!"

Sarah bit her lip, Diana's outburst prompting her to continue. "I remember that day, mum. I've never seen you so happy," she scuffed her toe against the fine rug nervously and glanced up, seeing Diana's soft eyes fixed on her face. Sarah looked around the room. "To be sure, mum, Lord Herbert was a fine man, God rest his soul, but you never loved him. You loved Mr. Fitzwilliam, and you still do."

Diana's eyes widened. Sarah cringed, preparing herself for a verbal lashing even though she knew it would never come. There were very few things that had unsettled Diana Harris, and Richard Fitzwilliam leaving her had probably been the one that Sarah recalled the most vividly, alongside the death of her father. Lady Diana Herbert, however, was a different woman altogether. She was calm, cool and collected, and even at her husband's funeral her figure had been stoic and her eyes bloodshot, but dry. Now, however, Sarah saw more of Diana Harris than she had seen in years.

"I don't know, Sarah," murmured Diana. She lay back down on the divan and Sarah hurried towards her, kneeling down and combing her damp hair off her forehead with her fingers, trying to offer comfort in whatever way she could. "Eight years is a long time. I've spent eight years thinking he left me."

"He _did_ leave you, mum, and he was a mad man to do it," said Sarah, her normally mild tone vicious. "Why, you couldn't be one of those ladies who wanted only money if you were forced to be! Mr. Fitzwilliam was wrong not to see that."

Diana sighed. "He didn't leave me, Sarah. My mother made him go."

At Sarah's confused expression, Diana sat up and slowly began telling her the whole story, feeling a curious relief as Sarah's eyes lit up with understanding. Her friendship with Sarah was strange, specially to her mother, but Diana trusted her implicitly. Sarah was not as bold as her mistress, but she genuinely loved her and had eagerly watched her romance blossom with Richard Fitzwilliam, and then had seen her tears and despair when he had left the same day he had asked for a private audience with her. Upon hearing the real story, however, Sarah felt tears gather in her eyes.

"Oh, mum," she choked out, her hand clasping Diana's fidgeting ones. She didn't say more, but Diana squeezed her hand and continued to stare unseeingly at the carpet. Sarah desperately wanted to say something to comfort her, but she knew nothing would help now. While she agreed wholeheartedly that Diana deserved all the luxuries that money could buy, she knew Diana herself had valued Richard Fitzwilliam's love above all else.

"Its alright, child," Diana came out of her reverie and smiled down at Sarah. "Would you tell Cook to send up a tray to my room as well? I would much prefer to rest."

Sarah nodded and stood up, hastily wiping her eyes and bobbing a curtsey. On her way out, however, she couldn't help but speak. "Do you still love him, my lady?"

Diana did not answer immediately. When Sarah looked back, she was gazing at the floor. "Perhaps," she said finally. "I told myself I didn't, when he left, but I don't think that was the truth."

"You must tell him, mum, that you know why he left," said Sarah. "To be sure, he was a coward to go, but he should know that you were lied to and that you will not go rushing into his arms as soon as he beckons."

"I'm sure he knows by now. The worrying thing is, Sarah, I think I might," Diana sighed and stood up. "Come, give Cook my message and get me out of this blasted dress."

Sarah bobbed a curtsey and quickly obeyed.

 **!**

"What do you mean, she cannot leave her room?" asked Diana incredulously. The maid fidgeted nervously, and Mrs. Hull gave her a look that had her scurrying off. The old woman turned to Diana and shrugged when her mistress' eyes turned to her questioningly.

"I have no idea what ails her, my lady, but she will not leave her room and she has not even allowed a maid to light the fire. If you would like the physician sent for –"

"I would like an executioner to chop off my own bloody head, is what I would like," muttered Diana viciously. Fortunately, the housekeeper did not hear. She stepped out of the way as Diana marched past her towards her mother's room, throwing the door open and narrowing her eyes at the lump under the covers. "Mother! It is nearly lunch-time."

"I am ill, child," came Mina's croaking voice from the bed. "Shut the door and do keep your voice down. My head aches."

Diana softened, but only slightly. She approached the bed and peered down at her mother, still in her nightdress with her eyes closed. Her skin was pale, but Diana did not know if it was merely a trick of the light or a sickly pallor from her illness. Her forehead was not warm, she deduced after pressing her palm to it, and her eyes were relatively clear, though slightly bruised from lack of sleep. "You do not seem ill, mother," said Diana finally. "You have been in bed for the past two days. If you are upset with me about what I said –"

"You have said nothing I do not deserve. You always were a passionate creature," Mina waved away her daughter's concern. "I merely need rest. Will you dine alone?"

Diana blinked. Her mother enjoyed being fawned over, and she loved it when Diana apologized even though she knew she was not wrong. Deciding to ignore the odd behaviour, Diana nodded. "Yes. I'll have Sarah bring you a tray."

"Thank you, child."

Diana left the room, gave the necessary orders to Mrs. Hull, and glanced at the closed door of her sitting-room in slight annoyance. She was not a talkative creature by any standards, but she detested being alone in a large house with nothing to do and no one to speak to. Her mother, tiresome as she was, was still an excellent companion, and Diana was not used to being denied company. The servants were well and good, but even Sarah could scarcely speak two sentences to her without stammering out an apology for impertinence. It had never bothered her before, she realized as she made her way to the sitting-room, but now suddenly it did. Charles had given her free reign over his carriage and purse any time she felt restless, but being in mourning meant she was denied her usual past-times. She was unused to sitting in one room and avoiding people. She wanted lively conversation, she missed her music, she had read all the books in the library twice, and she craved fresh air. Coincidentally, her restlessness had begun after her re-acquaintance with Richard Fitzwilliam.

Diana groaned and collapsed onto her favourite divan, rubbing her eyes miserably and glancing at the unfinished work of embroidery lying next to her. She wanted to play her piano and harp, the music almost therapeutic, but she knew it would be wrong. She felt like she deserved it, even now when her heart was heavy and her eyes burned with tears she could not shed. Charles had been a good man, and she had never been able to return his love. It was fitting, then, that mourning him should be a painful experience.

At that moment, the bell rang and Diana rolled her eyes in annoyance, knowing one of her mother's nosey friends was probably stopping by. Since none of them ever ventured to the side of the house that her room was located in, she did not bother to move. She tucked her feet under her and leaned against the side of the divan, propping open the book she had been reading before she had gone to attend to her mother and vowing she would actually read it this time.

Quick footsteps outside the door made her look up, and as soon as she did the door opened and a footman announced Colonel Richard Fitzwillian and Viscount Henry Fitzwilliam. Diana blinked and hurriedly got to her feet, almost tripping in her desire to be presentable when they entered. A million questions fluttered through her mind, the most important being _why._ However, she did not have time to dwell on _why_ she was being visited twice in the same week by Richard Fitzwilliam. Instead, she focused on smiling and curtsying to the two men and gesturing for them to sit, slightly tongue-tied in the presence of the man she had been thinking of endlessly for days and his brother, who had always seemed as if he could see right through her.

"I apologize for intruding upon you, Lady Diana," said the viscount, his voice kind and cheery. It set her at ease, if only a little. "I was in London for a few days, and my mother charged me to come see you and make sure all was well."

"Lady Fitzwilliam is very kind, but I assure you I am fine," Diana tucked her loose hair behind her ears awkwardly; she had been caught unawares and her hair was in a loose bun at the nape of her neck with a few curls falling out of it messily. She offered him a wan smile despite her discomfort. "My mother is slightly under the weather, but it is nothing to worry about."

"Is she ill?" asked Richard, his voice concerned. Diana's eyes flew to him immediately, wondering at his concern over someone who had caused him as much pain as her mother. He could read her eyes, surely, but _his_ were still a mystery to her.

"It is fatigue, I believe, nothing else," answered Diana, fighting to keep her voice natural. "Travelling does not agree with her."

"I hope she recovers," said Henry. "If you need anything, you will not hesitate to send a messenger to us, I hope?" Diana blinked at the unexpected offer and could only nod in confusion. "And if we are in London around the time of Darcy's wedding you must come with us, of course," the viscount's following comment was idle, his tone generous as it always was.

Diana finally gathered her wits and managed to answer him. "Thank you, sir, but your brother kindly offered to escort us when he brought the wedding invitation. Does the offer still stand, Colonel?" she addressed Richard, her lips curving upwards slightly. He returned her tentative smile.

"Of course, Lady Herbert."

Diana shook her head. "Call me Diana, please," Henry looked amused, while Richard almost seemed frightened. Diana resisted the urge to giggle, an urge she had not felt in a long time. She had always had the upper-hand in her relationship with Richard, and she knew she could not stay demure and meek for long, no matter what she was expected to do or how uncomfortable she got. She continued to smile calmly, though her pulse was racing lest he refuse or take offense at her familiarity. "You can call me Diana, Colonel, we have known each other for many years. Besides, Lady Herbert was my mother-in-law, and the last thing I want is to be called by her name. May God rest her soul," she added, her tone positively cheeky. The viscount took out his handkerchief and pretended to have a coughing fit, no doubt laughing at the look of surprise and bewilderment on Richard's face. Diana kept her face pleasant, though she dearly wanted to laugh as well.

"In that case, you can stop with all the colonel nonsense. I don't think anyone except the Hertfordshire party call me that," said Richard finally, clearing his throat. His hands went to his pocket, and Diana distinctly saw him finger a silver chain connected to something that rested inside it. It looked eerily familiar. Diana's eyes widened for a moment before she controlled herself once more and looked away, chastising herself silently. Her thoughts were ranging towards the improbable. Eight years was a long time.

The viscount recovered from his cough, and the conversation was casual after that. Diana inquired after his wife and children, and was disappointed to learn that they would not attend the wedding as well. The flash of sadness on her face reminded Richard of his Aunt Ellen's remark about Diana not having children, and it made his heart ache in that strangely uncomfortable but pleasant way once again. Perhaps it was due to that that he did not speak, or because he was waiting for an opportunity to use the name Diana had freely given him permission to use, but time passed quickly and they soon saw the room bathed in darkness. When a footman came in to light the candles, Henry declared that they had infringed on her hospitality long enough.

"Not at all. It was very kind of you both to come. I was just thinking before you came in that I was going mad in this house alone," admitted Diana as they stood.

Henry smiled and bowed, clasping her hand briefly. His eyes conveyed everything he could not say in front of his brother, and he left the room, strategically giving the two a small degree of privacy that they did not need, because as soon as their eyes locked no one else existed. Diana's heart raced, and Richard's eyes darkened, but nothing was said. He bowed, she gave him her hand, he kissed her knuckles briefly, and turned to leave. As he did, however, his hand went into his pocket and pulled something out. Diana saw the flash of silver as the candlelight reflected off the polished back of a silver pocket-watch before the door closed behind the two gentleman.

* * *

 **Hello, lovelies! I'm home for Easter break so apologies if the updates are a little messed up the next few weeks, however I'm sticking to my once a week schedule! Hope you like this one, and please do review! Much love xx**


	9. Chapter 9

"She knows," said Richard, as they sat in the carriage.

Henry raised his eyebrows. "I beg your pardon?"

"She knows what her mother did. She knows I did not leave her willingly."

"Technically, you did," commented his brother dryly, ignoring the scathing look sent his way. Richard had told him the whole story when he had reached town only last night, and while he felt for his brother, he pitied Diana more. "And how do you know this?"

"I just do," Richard sighed a rested a hand against his face wearily. "I could always tell when she knew something I had done. She has this look…" he trailed off. "You wouldn't understand, Henry, but I could tell as soon as she looked at me."

Henry shook his head. "It is a wonder she can stand the sight of you."

"I did it for her."

"Yes, but you did not think of what she would want. In my experience, woman prefer that sort of thing."

"She made a successful match –"

"- and was clearly married to a man she had no affection for. She looks at you just as she did when she was sixteen and her mamma would scold her for not dancing with enough men," Henry rolled his eyes. "Richard, I love you dearly, but you are merely fooling yourself. Diana is an excellent woman and clearly feels for you very strongly. She would be a perfect match."

Richard looked at his brother in surprise. "I met her for the first time in eight years barely a month ago, and you are already thinking of marriage?"

"I am merely prompting you to act on your own before our dear mother gets involved."

"What does mamma have to do with it?" demanded Richard. "I never told her of my proposal, and I know you did not either."

"I did not have to. She knows that you loved, nay, you _love_ her even now."

Richard cleared his throat awkwardly. "I will not be making designs on a woman who just lost her husband," despite his discomfort, his voice was steady.

Henry looked amused. "I see. Will you be doing so when her mourning is over?"

"I will not be doing so at any date in the near future," said Richard firmly, ignoring his brother's slightly teasing tone. "And I'd thank you _not_ to discuss my life with our mother, Henry."

"I will discuss it as I please, but I will try to keep her out of your way, for Diana's sake if not for your own," Henry shook his head sadly. "Can you imagine being in her shoes? In love at seventeen and waking up the morning after the man who loves you has proposed, only to find that he has left the country without a word? _Believing_ he merely _changed his mind_ for _eight_ years?"

Richard refused to answer, and his brother left him to his thoughts. The carriage stopped at Fitzwilliam House, and the two men descended, each making for a separate room. Henry went to the library, intent on writing a few letters of importance. Richard had yet to answer Darcy's letter, and yet he made his way to the smoking room, pouring himself a glass of something that was much too strong to be consumed that early in the evening. Yet he rarely allowed himself the luxury of excessive drink, and felt inclined to indulge a little bit.

He had no doubt that Diana could learn to love him again, if she had not harboured a secret affection for him for eight years. Despite her many faults, Richard could not accuse her of inconstancy. She was headstrong, of course, and passionate, prone to speak her mind more than she should, and her temper often caused her to appear wilder than she truly was. Darcy had teased him once, in his own serious way, that love made one blind to the faults of others. To be sure, Richard admitted grudgingly, if Miss Elizabeth Bennet could find something to love in someone with a public persona like Fitzwilliam Darcy's, then perhaps his cousin had the right idea.

Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Richard could not think of her without a small smile. It was not because of desire; he knew he would get along splendidly with his future cousin. No, his affections were extremely platonic. But Miss Elizabeth Benne made him smile because she was as Diana Harris had been when he had met her. She had spirit, she laughed, and she cared naught for the stifling rules of society. Diana had been like that once, which was probably why she had accepted his proposal no questions asked, even though she knew her mother expected her to marry _at least_ a duke. It was probably why he had sought out her company so much at Rosings, he mused as he took another gulp of his drink. At first, he had merely wanted to get to know the woman Darcy seemed willing to think well of, though reluctantly. However, the more he knew her the more similarities he saw, and it had truly been a pleasure to feel eight years younger as he conversed with a pretty woman with a beautiful mind.

When he had met Diana again, he had been forced to do a double take. His family had been correct, she _was_ like Elizabeth. _Was._ Diana Harris and Diana Herbert were two completely different people. Richard had seen her walk, talk, practically _breathe_ like a perfect model of the upper-class aristocrat with more time and money than she knew what to do with. He had watched it with a degree of sorrow at first, which he supposed amounted for his incredible stiffness and awkwardness in their first few conversations. He knew exactly how to act around Diana Harris, but not Diana Herbert. He could read the girl's face like it was a child's book, but this woman was closed off and almost impossible to make out. Was it unfair of him, he wondered, to resent her for growing up? He had forced her to do it, after all. Had they married, he knew her fire would not have died: with less to live on than she had now, her brightness would be the only thing keeping them going. He wouldn't have had it any other way, and at the time he had assumed Diana felt the same.

And then Mina Harris had come along. Richard had not expected an easy conversation, but he _had_ expected her to say yes. He was a second son, to be sure, but he planned to go into the military, and the second son of an earl that Diana loved was truly better than an aristocrat she did not care about. However, twenty minutes into her mother's quiet reflections on the opportunities Diana would never have and how her daughter was not made to be poor had made Richard hesitate. Would Diana grow tired of his love, once she saw her friends receive fine gifts from their rich husbands? Would she miss her extravagant life in London? Would she resent him? Would she, _could_ she, stop loving him? He had not been able to stand the thought. Diana hating him with her usual passion was one thing, she would throw the word around carelessly when she was in a temper, but Diana simply ceasing to love him, ceasing to care about him was something he would not tolerate.

Did she regret her new life? Richard doubted it. She seemed entirely too comfortable in her home, with her jewels and her meticulous hair and clothes. He had seen her in the middle of the day with her hair up, her shoes on and a shawl covering her shoulders, when he _knew_ she preferred to be less constricted in her own home. It was why he had gone unannounced: to catch her off guard, to see a glimpse of the old Diana behind her cold exterior.

He had seen her old fire twice on that first night at the dinner. When Emily had insinuated that her husband had tamed her, her eyes had lit up like a stormy July day. When his mother had asked she "train" Elizabeth, he had seen her frustration clearly. And when she had insisted he call her Diana, as she had done within five minutes of meeting him the first time, he had seen a spark in her eyes which seemed to dare him to refuse her request, almost challenging him to so she could show him what else she had to say. He had not refused, and had asked her to call him by his given name as well. That had pleased her, he had noticed, and the conversation was much livelier than it had been before her comment. He had even seen her absently remove two pins from her hair, which caused a large curl to fall out of place and just rest against her cheek. She had brushed it away irritably a few times as his brother spoke, too intent on his story to probably notice she had ruined her hairstyle. Richard had basked in it, however: her gesture had shown him that, despite what she said and did, Diana Harris was still in there somewhere.

The question now, of course, was what he was going to do about it. While he doubted he loved her with the same ardour he had had at twenty, he knew he could not ignore his feelings. Love was a word he did not throw around carelessly, probably due to the fact he had resigned himself to one day marry a rich heiress for her money alone to get along in life. As much as he resented it, Richard understood his brother's perspective: he cared for Diana even now, and she was rich. It _was_ a perfect match, but he could not bring himself to ask her, not after what he had done.

Could he pursue a friendship with her? The thought was not unpleasant. He had been friends with her first before realizing no one else held a candle next to her. Everything about her had pleased him, and he hoped she had not changed that much so as to cause him to stop associating this new version of her with his own memories of her. She had certainly cooled since the last time he had seen her, but he could not deny the small spark in her eyes that still drew him in as it had all those years ago.

However, it had been easier to love Diana through his memories, realized Richard. The bright girl suited him much better than the cold woman without a hair out of place. It would take him time to love this new version of her, and to see if this new version would even have time for the likes of him.

* * *

 **Thought I'd upload early just because. Hope everyone had a nice Easter! This is a short chapter, but I thought it would be good to put it in now and give everyone a good insight into Richard's head. If I'm making him very OOC I apologize, but considering the circumstances I don't think anyone would be as happy-go-lucky as he's portrayed normally at this point. However, that _will_ happen soon, so stay tuned! Review lots, thanks!**

 **Much love xx**


	10. Chapter 10

"Good morning, mum."

"Good morning, dear," sighed Diana. Sarah bit her lip at the troubled look on her mistress' face, but did not comment. As she helped her get dressed, she noticed Diana's hands fidgeted, a tell-tale sign that she was anxious.

"Cook has made roast today, mum, as a special treat for you," said Sarah brightly. She kept her tone forcefully light as she quickly brushed through Diana's hair and pinned it up atop her head, only to have Diana swat her hands away and let it loose again. Sarah resisted the urge to reprimand her. "And it has almost been five months now, so you must sort through your dresses so I can find some for the half-mourning period. Women in Lord Herbert's family only fully mourn for eight months, you know."

"No," Diana shook her head. "I don't want to let go of black completely yet."

Sarah looked surprised. "You hate black, mum," she said gently. "It would not be unacceptable; it is the way."

Diana's lips twitched. "Perhaps it is slightly unorthodox, Sarah, but I prefer it this way. Has my mother had breakfast?"

"Yes, mum. She is waiting for you in your sitting-room."

"Is she?" Diana hummed absently as she stood, not even noticing Sarah put the shawl around her shoulders. "Well then, I best be off. Has the steward from the estate arrived? I had a letter from him yesterday."

"Yes, mum, he is in the kitchens. Shall I have Mr. Bonds send him up?"

"I will see him after luncheon. Make sure he gets something to eat and a place to rest for tonight, would you?"

Sarah bobbed a curtsey, but hesitated despite her dismissal. "Are you quite alright, mum?" she asked finally. "You seem agitated."

"That is an excellent word to describe my state of mind," Diana sighed. "Do you remember my silver pocket-watch, Sarah?"

Sarah looked surprised. "Yes, mum, you told me you had lost it when we moved to the manor house after you married."

"And you assumed I lied so I would not have to give it to Charles, as my mother wanted me to?"

Sarah merely shrugged a shoulder. "I would have seen it if you had lied, mum, but you would never."

"I did lie, Sarah."

Sarah looked confused. "Mum?"

"I gave Richard that watch the day he asked me to marry him, for good luck. It was papa's, you know, and I had never parted with it since he died. But I gave it to Richard," Diana took a deep breath. "And I am quite sure I saw it in his hand when he came to call with his brother two weeks ago."

Sarah's eyes widened. "Mum, what will-"

"I'll go see my mother now. Run to the kitchens and do as I asked, please," Diana turned abruptly and headed for the doorway. She was not upset she had confided in Sarah, the girl's loyalty was unquestionable, but Sarah's observation of her mood had made her realize how much she was letting Richard Fitzwilliam affect her. There was no doubt in her mind that she still loved him, but she would not put her feelings above duty, not when Richard had shown her that there was a line he would not cross, even to be with her.

"Good morning," said Diana shortly as she entered the sitting-room. Her stoic face changed, however, when she saw who else was in the room. "My lady?"

"Good morning, dear," said Lady Fitzwilliam brightly. She stood and gave Diana a gentle hug. "My, even in black you look simply stunning. This hair-style suits you so," the older woman patted her cheek softly. Kind though her words were, they made Diana uncomfortable. Her hair was down and carefully pinned back from her face since she had not been expecting anyone to visit this early. However, she forced a smile onto her face, rang for tea, and took a seat opposite the two women.

"What brings you to us, my lady?" she asked finally. She folded her hands in her lap, consciously resisting the urge to fidget.

"I arrived last night and I just had to see Mina again. I do hope you plan to stay in London indefinitely," she added pointedly. "I would so love to have you close by."

Diana smiled, but did not speak. As much as she loved Lady Fitzwilliam, her kind smile and twinkling eyes were too much like those of her son. She wanted to put Richard Fitzwilliam out of her mind for the afternoon, but clearly she would not be able to. She contented herself with sitting quietly as the two older women chatted. It would not do to open a book when she had company, so she picked up her sewing, a pass-time she greatly despised, and began to work.

Lady Fitzwilliam had just begun to speak of the latest fashions when a footman came into the room and announced Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam. Diana's heart skipped a beat, but she pushed down the fluttering in her stomach and stood up.

He came in, obviously surprised to find his mother there, which made Diana wonder why he had come in the first place. Had he come to see _her_? The thought made her redden, and she was sure Richard noticed the pink tinge to her cheeks as she gave him her hand. He sat close by, far enough to seem aloof, but close enough that they could speak, if they so wished. Diana put her work down, knowing she would end up pricking herself at the rate her hands were shaking now. Her fidgeting did not go unnoticed.

"You still haven't gotten rid of that nasty habit, I see," Richard's voice was low, but his expression was pleasant.

Diana couldn't help but smile. References to the past should upset her, but she was only glad he had started the topic instead of her. "It _is_ a nasty habit," she conceded, folding her hands in her lap in the way her mother had taught her, more to minimize the erratic movements than anything else. However, she saw Richard's eyes narrow at her action, leaving her confused. "What brings you here?" she asked, unwilling to let the conversation end.

"I- uh, I came to collect my mother, of course," his slight stammer made Diana raise an eyebrow.

"Your mother came in her own carriage," she commented. Richard looked down, slightly sheepish. Diana smiled, but decided to change the direction of the conversation. "Come now, Colonel, confess. Did you miss my mother's company that much? Her riveting questions about the war brought you back here, did they not?"

Her teasing made him roll his eyes. "Certainly, my lady. That is precisely the reason why I am here."

"Diana," she corrected, almost automatically.

"Richard," he threw back, his lips twitching at her short chuckle.

"Touché," Diana conceded. "You will not tell me, then, what brings you here?"

"Madam, I expect you are intelligent enough to guess," he bowed his head. "Would you really make me suffer as to say it?"

"I would never," she dared not say it was her own self that had brought him here, so she wisely let the subject drop. The easy banter surprised her, but she found herself genuinely smiling at the conversation, something she had not done in a long time. "Very well, keep your secrets. And how has town been treating you?"

"Well enough. I spend my evenings with my brother and my mornings with a book," said Richard, turning in his chair to face her fully. "And yourself? You have been in town for quite some time."

"Unfortunately."

"Another nasty habit."

Diana raised an eyebrow. "Whatever have I done now?"

Richard smiled. "You always hated London."

Diana laughed, but shook her head. "I disagree. My company in London was always exceptionally good."

"Be that as it may, you always were quite vocal about your hatred for town."

Diana angled her head to one side. "When one is sixteen and being paraded about like a new parakeet from the East, one hates as one must."

Richard raised his eyebrows. "Eloquent."

"Thank you. I read in my spare time, you know," she retorted.

"You always did like to read," he noted.

"You seem to remember an awful lot of what I did and did not do, Richard," her tone was less teasing now, a little more serious, but she fought to keep her smile genuine. She still did not know how she felt exactly, but the last thing she wanted was for him to think she hated him.

Richard seemed at a loss for words, but only for a moment. Diana's wit had always been sharp, but he had always been an exceptionally good talker. Clearly, that had not changed with time. "Eight years is not such a long time as that," he finally said. "One remembers things, particularly moments of happiness."

She pushed on recklessly. "And the remembrances of pain? How does one remember those?"

His eyes flickered down, and Diana saw his hand reach into his pocket, touching something she could not see. Was it…? But no, he did not take anything out. "One never forgets pain, Diana," he spoke simply as he smiled a small, sad smile full of unsaid things.

 **!**

"Mr. Edwards is here, mum."

"Send him in, Bonds," said Diana, putting down her book. She leaned back against the comfortable back of her husband's desk chair and mentally prepared herself for what would undoubtedly be bad news. When William Edwards came in, his face showed her that her suspicions were correct.

"Have a seat, Edwards," sighed Diana, indicating the chair in front of the desk. "You said you had some particulars to discuss with me?"

"Yes, Lady Herbert, mostly about your future now that your husband has passed," never one to waste words, Edwards got right to business. Diana's interaction with the steward had been little to none, since her husband managed the day-to-day affairs of the estate independent from her expected duties. However, she knew him to be a straightforward man, and she was hoping he would not waste her time.

"Yes, I am aware that the new Lord Herbert is in the East and has given you instructions to prepare the house for his arrival by Christmas."

"Yes, madam, and preparations have been made. However, you are aware of course that your husband bought the house we are currently in a few months before your marriage?"

Diana raised her eyebrows. "What difference does that make?"

"My lady, he bought it with money that does not come from the earldom. In his will, he left it to you along with your share of the money. This house is therefore essentially _yours._ "

Diana felt the shock of his words wash over her and clenched her teeth. "How is that even possible?" she demanded. "Everything Charles owned went to the earldom except the money he set aside for me as his widow! This house -"

"-is just one in a long list of things your husband left you," interrupted Edwards gently. "The lawyers told your mother this, but she considered you to be too overwhelmed to understand at the time. I have most of the papers here," he pulled a sheaf of rough pages out of seemingly nowhere and placed them on her desk. "Traditionally, a male relative would have to oversee your reviewing of them, but the new Lord Herbert has given me permission to act on your behalf, at least until he returns. He feels a duty to see to it that you are settled in life even after his cousin's death."

Diana merely nodded. She felt her head spin, but she resisted the urge to swoon. Business matters had always gone over her head, and she was momentarily glad that her mother was here: of all people, she would have a better understanding of what was to be done now. However, Diana _hated_ London, but now that she had a house that was her own she knew her mother would not hear of them relocating to the country. The thought of spending the rest of her life cooped up in a cramped and yet lavish townhouse made her physically ill. "And the manor?" she blurted out finally. Gigantic though it was, it was better than London.

Edwards gave her a sympathetic look. "Your personal effects will be transferred here, of course, but everything else belongs to the new earl. I am sorry, my lady."

Diana shook her head, waving away his apologies. She would not miss her jewels or her linen, but she knew her mother would disapprove of her unwillingness to argue. Charles had left her much more than she anticipated; asking for more would only make her guilt worse.

They spent an hour discussing particulars, and by the time Edwards was gone Diana felt the urge to either scream into a pillow or fall asleep for a week. The technicalities were complicated, and she stumbled up to her room in a daze, allowing Sarah to help her get ready for bed and mumbling something about seeing her mother the next day. She fell asleep before finishing her sentence.

 **!**

"- Charles' desire was obviously that I live comfortably and as–"

" _Comfortably_?" Mina looked affronted. "My daughter, the widow of an earl, has to think of _comfort_ now?"

Diana resisted the urge to groan. "Mother, be reasonable. We do not yet know what else has been left."

"I am assuming your share of the jewels, some linen and plate, and this house along with your income," huffed Mina. "What else could there be, child? _Comfortable_ you shall be, but at this rate a second marriage would be –"

"What did you just say?" said Diana sharply. Mina looked chagrined, as if she had spoken without thinking. Diana felt her temper, the temper she had been fighting to control for over a week, threaten to explode. "A _second marriage_?"

"Well, you cannot be single forever," said Mina, maintaining her look of righteousness. "As your mother, it is my duty to think of the things you cannot. With no children that have a right to the title, you cannot expect to have many chances. You are in mourning and I thought it impolite to discuss –"

"I expect you not to even _consider_ thoughts of my second marriage for an unidentifiable period of time!" snapped Diana. Resisting the urge to scream in frustration, she pushed off from the plush sofa in the parlour and stomped out. However, she passed her sitting-room and ran up the stairs, entering her room and letting out a groan. She slammed the door shut behind her, aggressively ripping the pins out of her head until she was sure she looked like a madwoman. She collapsed onto the bed, refusing to give a thought to the wrinkles in her gown, and ignored the gentle tapping at the door.

"You should be calmer, mum," came Sarah's quiet voice from near he doorway. The door clicked shut and Diana felt her small hands touch her head. "You will have a headache tomorrow, now."

"I don't care," sighed Diana. She turned on to her back and stared at the ceiling blankly. "When did it get so horrible, Sarah?"

Sarah hesitated. Diana closed her eyes, preparing herself for the onslaught of comfort she knew was meaningless in her current state of mind. However, she was surprised when Sarah didn't offer her reassuring words. Instead, the younger woman merely sat down next to her, on the edge of the bed, and patted her hand. "I don't know, mum," she answered honestly.

* * *

 **How was that? Leave me a review telling me what you think and if you want more Richard/Diana or more Mina/Diana, or just more of anyone really! I love writing them all :)**

 **Till next time. Much love xx**


	11. Chapter 11

"You have a letter from London, Lizzie," said Jane, knocking on their bedroom door and smiling at her sister as she jumped, her gaze flicking from the window to the doorway. "Daydreaming again?"

Elizabeth sighed. "I needed to get away. Mamma was anxious to know how far up Kitty and Mary would be able to marry once William becomes her son-in-law."

"Do call him Mr. Darcy in public, Lizzie," chided Jane, though it was hard to take her scolding seriously with the gentle smile on her face. "Mamma will not like it."

"Another reason to avoid mamma for as long as I may, then," smiled Elizabeth. She accepted the letter, not even glancing at the handwriting before opening it quickly. She blinked upon realising was not from her aunt, as she had expected, but in an unfamiliar hand. The end, initialled _DH_ , however, told her what she needed to know. "It is from Diana," she answered her sister's unspoken question. "She thanks us for the wedding invitation, says she would be delighted to attend and that we must call on her when we arrive in London along with our aunt and uncle!"

Jane looked surprised. "She has never even met them."

"She says they are welcome to bring their children as well," continued Elizabeth, her eyes quickly scanning the letter. "Oh, Jane, William told me she absolutely fawns over every child she sees and she is _so_ good with children."

"Poor dear," murmured Jane sadly. "Perhaps we should allow them to come, just this once?"

"I will ask my aunt when I next write to her," said Elizabeth decidedly. She folded the letter when she was done. "She says we are to bring whatever company we choose since she may not entertain us fully until her mourning is over. Oh, Jane!" Elizabeth looked up at her sister, her eyes wide. "We leave for London in scarcely a week!"

"Yes, we do," her sister's laughter was quieter, but just as happy. "And married scarcely a month after."

"Poor Pappa," Elizabeth bit her lip, her joy diminishing significantly. "Mamma's nerves will be sure to cause him a great deal of annoyance now."

"We can worry about that later," soothed Jane. "You should write back to Lady Herbert and tell Aunt Gardiner the news."

Elizabeth nodded and followed her sister out of the room. Diana's letter made her thoughts immediately jump to a conversation with her betrothed a few weeks ago. Darcy had received a letter from Colonel Fitzwilliam related to Diana, which he had brought for her to read. Elizabeth had been reluctant to go through it, at first, but Darcy had assured her that the contents would set her mind at ease. Though Elizabeth would not admit it to him, the letter had done the opposite. As much affection as she had for her future cousin, Diana's pain was something she could sympathise with much more than his. To have a mother who would do anything to have her daughter marry well was something Elizabeth was acquainted with, but despite her faults Mrs. Bennet truly loved all her daughters, and that was something Elizabeth was sure Diana could not say with conviction after what had happened to her.

True, it had turned out very well for her, mused Elizabeth as she sat down in a corner of the sitting room with her letters. Diana herself spoke of her husband fondly, and her jewels and clothes showed no sign of a miserable life. And yet, Elizabeth had seen the way she looked at Colonel Fitzwilliam from under her lashes, as if she was both afraid to catch his eye and yet yearning to do so. She had also seen the Colonel's entire demeanour change after he had greeted Diana. Though she knew him less than the others that had been present, she knew his actions were out of character: he was aloof, he hardly spoke, and his expression was one of incredible discomfort. Clearly, Diana knew that he had left her because of her mother, because there was no sign of hatred in her eyes.

Elizabeth wondered at Colonel Fitzwilliam's reasoning. Had not Lady Catherine done worse to her when she had come and demanded her to untangle herself from her engagement to Darcy, which at that point had not even existed? Elizabeth shook her head sadly.

 **!**

"I hear we are to entertain in a fortnight," said Mina casually as her daughter entered the room.

"Not entertain, merely take callers that I can bear to be in company with," answered Diana briskly, retrieving her book from where she had accidentally left it in the parlour and making her way back towards the exit. However, a footman appeared at the door and opened his mouth to speak. Diana was forced to resist the urge to groan.

"Lady Alexandra Fitzwilliam!" he announced, stepping back to show Lady Fitzwilliam into the room.

"Is this a bad time?" asked Lady Fitzwilliam concernedly as she saw her friend's rigid posture and Diana's annoyed look. However, both women's stiffness eased upon her entrance, so she allowed her cheeks to be kissed and sat down near Mina.

"How are you doing, my dear?" asked Lady Fitzwilliam, gesturing for Diana to come sit by her. The younger woman obeyed and murmured something about being well. Lady Fitzwilliam smiled. "Darcy sent me a letter telling me of your invitation to the Bennet family. It was very kind of you."

"No kindness, my lady," Diana smiled and shook her head. "I have few friends in London, and Miss Elizabeth's family seems charming."

"Family?" questioned Mina. Diana kept her face pleasant, though inwardly she couldn't help but feel slightly smug at her mother's slight confusion. "It appears I am unaware of plans happening within my own home."

"Diana sent a letter to Miss Bennet asking her to call on her with the aunt and uncle that she will be in town with, along with her sister and her fiancé," Lady Fitzwilliam said, her tone pleased. "I just know it would be _such_ a help if it were known about town that Elizabeth was invited to Diana's first thing, Mina."

"I'm sure your dinner will do any such work, Lady Fitzwilliam, I claim no powers of persuasion when it comes to London," smiled Diana. "I will attempt to entertain them once I am able to, however."

However, Lady Fitzwilliam's happy smile would not be diminished after her words, not even after Mina's look of slight horror. Diana stood up to ring for refreshments, unable to resist glancing at her mother to see how she was taking the news. She was aware that this uncle, a Mr. Gardiner, was in trade and resided in Cheapside. Her mother's new abode in Mayfair, it seemed, had made the thought of entertaining a tradesman highly disagreeable.

Diana felt a perverse delight at the thought of her mother's displeasure.

* * *

 **Hello again! Unfortunately this is my last update for a while, things begin to heat up after this (the greatly anticipated dinner at Fitzwilliam House for one) and I need to make sure I have all the chapters written out so I can stick to my schedule. I also have exams starting in May, but I will try to update as often as I can in between. Till then, I hope you enjoyed this little filler and do let me know what you're anxious to see happen, sooner rather than later!**

 **Much love xx**


	12. Chapter 12

"Your cap, mum."

Diana huffed, but sat down nevertheless as Sarah began to pin her curls up and set the black lace cap delicately onto her head. The scrap of net that was a poor excuse for a veil tickled her chin, annoying Diana more than anything else, but she refrained from commenting on it, knowing Sarah would not hear of her removing it. Apparently, the latest fashion from France was to wear the veil just grazing the collar, and despite the fact that Diana detested the veil as a whole, she grudgingly agreed to wear it.

"Do I look sufficiently dowdy now?" she asked dryly once Sarah was done.

Sarah rolled her eyes, almost making Diana laugh with her expression. "Only you could make mourning look like it was in fashion," she responded, not looking shy in the least. "Perhaps the glass beads tonight?"

Diana shook her head and fingered a delicate necklace that lay, almost forgotten, at the bottom of her jewellery box. "This one."

"The pendant?" Sarah looked surprised. "If you want, mum, of course."

She removed it from the box, untangling a few bracelets from it gently and clasping it around Diana's neck when she was done. Diana understood why Sarah was surprised. After her marriage, the lavish jewels her husband had showered her with meant she had no reason to return to this necklace, but somehow she felt that tonight it would be fitting. She had worn it to every ball her first season, but she knew she was fooling neither Sarah not herself: Richard had always been fond of the delicate silver chain with the small, tear-drop shaped diamond hanging from it. It had been a present on her sixteenth birthday from her parents.

"I will wait downstairs for my mother," said Diana when Sarah was done fussing. "You do not have to wait if we are late."

"Yes, mum," Sarah curtsied, but Diana knew she would be waiting quietly in the room when she returned, no matter the hour. Smiling, she blew her a kiss and exited the room.

Her mother was waiting for her in the parlour.

Mina nodded in approval when she saw what her daughter was wearing. "I know you detest the caps and veils, but this is no family affair and it will not do for you to look improperly dressed."

"Yes, mother," said Diana quietly. She made towards the door, hoping to exit the room so they could be on their way, but her mother stopped her again.

"Ana," her tone was unusually gentle. "I understand that your… feelings for Richard may cause you to want to seek him out, but refrain from doing so. It will not do to associate with a man so closely when you are still in mourning. Perhaps when your time is done –"

"I harbour no fantasies that you would allow me to marry Richard even after I am done mourning Charles, mother, so you need not concern yourself," snapped Diana. "I would very much like to arrive at Fitzwilliam House on time," her patience finally worn out, she exited the room and made for the carriage, climbing in and pointedly looking out the window at the coming dusk when her mother climbed in after her. Mina sighed and the carriage began moving.

 **!**

"Diana, my darling!" Lady Ellen Carmichael gave Diana a smacking kiss on the cheek and smiled at her delightedly as soon as she walked through the door. "How lovely to see you!"

"And you, my lady," Diana smiled. Despite her affection for Lady Fitzwilliam, Lady Carmichael had always been what she wished her mother could be: warm. "How are you?"

"Better, my dear. I am so glad you could come," she lowered her voice as she spoke. "I was worried mourning would keep you away from us."

Diana smiled and shook her head. "I have always considered the Fitzwilliams family, and there is nothing wrong with meeting family. Do not fret, my mother would never allow me to leave the house if she thought it was improper."

Lady Carmichael's smile was decidedly stiff when Diana mentioned her mother. Unlike her sister, Lady Carmichael did not turn a blind eye to Mina's faults. "Yes, Mina is quite capable," the older woman walked with her towards the sofas and sank down with a deep sigh. "Not as young as I once was, you know," she added when Diana looked concerned.

"Nonsense," sounded a voice from behind them. "You are as young and beautiful as ever, Aunt Ellen."

"Scoundrel!" laughed Lady Carmichael, swatting at Richard with her fan as he kissed her cheek quickly. "And why have you not been to see me in a week, young man?"

"My mother has demanded my attention," Richard bowed and sat down next to Diana on the settee opposite his aunt. He gave her a quick smile as a greeting and turned to speak to the older woman, leaving Diana to fidget with the pendant that dangled from her neck.

As the two relations conversed easily, Diana itched to get away, but Lady Ellen's dainty slippers rested just against her foot, and despite their conversation she knew there was no way of moving without attracting attention. She demurely kept her eyes down, her veil providing her with the perfect excuse to avoid talking too much. Nevertheless, she could not stay still. Her fingers picked at her jewellery constantly, a new habit she was developing every time Richard was near.

"My lady?" Richard's voice addressing her drew Diana out of her reverie, and she looked up in confusion. "I was telling my aunt about Darcy's wedding," he added, noting her confused expression. "Aunt Ellen did not know you were invited as well."

"Oh, yes," Diana said hastily as she turned to Lady Carmichael. "Miss Elizabeth sent an invitation for my mother and I when I returned to London."

"I delivered it myself," added Richard. Diana gave him a bemused look, and he merely shrugged, his lips twitching. When Diana turned to look at his aunt, she realized why.

For the next quarter of an hour, Lady Ellen Carmichael monopolized the attention of the two young people by telling them the often-before-heard story of her own wedding, and how her husband has swept her off her feet in a time when affection between spouses was something unheard of, even scandalous. Diana listened attentively, but she felt like punching Richard Fitzwilliam: anyone who knew Lady Ellen knew she delved into the story of her courtship and wedding any chance she got, and Diana's long acquaintance with her meant she had heard the story more times than she could count.

She was relieved, however, when there was a commotion near the door and the remaining guests began to enter, signalling the beginning of the real party. Diana stood up to go to them and was surprised, but not displeased, when Richard offered her his arm. She hesitated for only a second, enough time to make Richard raise an eyebrow at her. Deciding that she owed her mother nothing, she took his arm, but made sure to pinch it.

"You know what that was for, do not give me that look," she admonished quietly at his look of mock-indignation. They made their way through the crowd of people who were anxious to see Elizabeth. "Lady Ellen always tells that story."

Richard chuckled. "I was just making sure you had not forgotten it. How many yards of lace was it?" His eyes twinkled with mirth.

"Twenty-two," said Diana. She wanted to laugh, because everything he said made her laugh, but she was already pushing her luck just by allowing herself to speak to him so easily. Should she laugh with him, she knew it would take patience, more than she was willing to extend, to deal with the rumours that would follow. "You've heard it just as many times as I have, if not more."

"Indeed, my lady, yet you always appreciate it with the same amount of enthusiasm," Richard looked like he dearly wanted to laugh at her expression, but refrained from doing so, for which Diana was grateful.

Diana huffed. "And shall I call you colonel again?"

Richard guffawed. "If I called you Diana in front of my aunt, she would have my head."

"I do not see Lady Ellen hereabouts, do you?"

Richard shook his head smilingly. "My mistake. It is just… odd."

"How so? You called me Diana before," she argued, lowering her voice as they entered the throng of people that Elizabeth was being introduced to by Lady Fitzwilliam. She dropped his arm and played with her pendant again, keeping her eyes in front of her. She had been playing around with an idea for weeks now, hoping to catch him alone and talk to him, but the likelihood of being able to get a private word was slim, so she decided to simply drop hints wherever she could.

Unfortunately, he did not seem to understand. Richard was silent at her comment, so Diana sighed and busied herself with peering over the feathered heads of all the ladies, hoping to catch a glimpse of Elizabeth and her expression. She noted, however, that he had begun to watch her despite his silence, and finally caught his eye, raising her eyebrows. He smiled, a little sadly. "That was a different time," he said quietly.

"Not so very different," answered Diana quickly, eager to continue talking. When he did not look convinced, she took a pointed step back, indicating with her eyes that he should follow. He obliged, and Diana knew they had only a few moments before Elizabeth would no longer be the centre of attention. She folded her arms across her chest and decided to simply say what she had wanted to say since she had seen him again. "Can we not be friends, Richard?"

The current moment, surrounded by London's finest, was perhaps not the best time to have such a discussion. However, Diana considered it to be as good a time as any: it would be rare now that her mother would watch anyone besides her when Richard was near, and Lady Fitzwilliam seemed to be interested in watching as well.

Richard looked surprised at her question, and he was silent for so long that Diana's fingers closed around her pendant again, tugging at it restlessly. "If that is what you wish," he said finally. Diana raised an eyebrow, her expression sceptical. Knowing she dealt in positives and negatives rather than formalities, Richard hesitated for only a second before nodding. "What I mean to say is, I would like that."

The smile he got from her was brilliant. For well over a minute, he merely stared at her, and she stared back, her smile never wavering. Diana's expressions had always captivated him. At nineteen, he had been surrounded by girls who were more women than children, interested in snaring the richest man they could find so they could set themselves and their families up in life. Diana had been the one hiding behind drapes during formal dinners, the one trying to avoid dancing with every man who asked her at balls because the shoes her mother put her in pinched her toes, the girl who had insisted he call her "just Diana" despite the fact that she was the daughter of an earl's younger son and her mother introduced her as an unfortunate heiress before even telling anyone her name. She had never told him any of this, of course: he had read it all in her face, just as he could read her thoughts in it right now, despite the fashionable black veil that tried to hide it from everyone.

She had missed him.

* * *

 **This was the first chapter I ever wrote for this story and AAAHHH it just makes me so happy to post it! It doesn't look much like how it looked when I first wrote it but the last paragraph is still exactly the same so I know I'm still on track. Next up, the rest of the night and another conversation between...? Any guesses?**

 **Also much love to my 3 reviewers, LovePP, tarlily and kaaw (in answer to your question, yes Mina does have a habit of taking everything Diana has to be her own, and this will be explored further as the story goes on, good on you for picking up on that!). Appreciation really does make me so happy. Until next time! xx**


	13. Chapter 13

"And that is Lady Carlisle, but it would be wise to avoid her for as long as humanly possible," Diana's smile never wavered as she pointed out another woman to Elizabeth, but her jaw was slightly tight as she spoke out of the corner of her mouth. "I really cannot stand her."

"She seems to be very good friends with Miss Bingley," noted Elizabeth. Her smile was softer than Diana's, but she wisely followed her example and opened her mouth as less as she could to avoid making it look like they were talking about everyone who passed by.

"Caroline Bingley?" Diana raised her eyebrows, her pleasant expression cracking for a second, allowing Elizabeth to see how truly annoyed she was. She pulled out her fan and hid her face behind it, allowing her to speak more freely. "Nasty woman, that one. Mr. Bingley is such a nice man, I wonder where she gets it from." Elizabeth laughed quietly at her comment and Diana bit back a smile. "I really am a terrible influence. Have I said one kind thing about any woman in this room?"

"Only the poor ones."

"Women without money are really the best kind," quipped Diana. She snapped her fan shut. "You see through them in an instant. The rich ones, on the other hand…" she rolled her eyes. "I should not be so cruel. It has always been hard to be an unmarried woman with money in London."

"You managed it very well," said Elizabeth.

"Ah, but I am a rich widow. When I first came here, I was poor as well," said Diana, her lips twitching. "Why do you think Lady Fitzwilliam likes me so much? I was an excellent charity case who could make no advances on either of her sons."

Elizabeth looked like she wanted to ask a question at Diana's curious statement, but hesitated. They lapsed into silence and just when Diana was going to point out another lady of her acquaintance, Elizabeth spoke.

"The colonel cares for you very much," she said quietly.

Diana looked taken aback by her words, but nodded nevertheless. "I believe so. We were very good friends when we were young."

"And now?"

Diana glanced at the younger woman, noting the frankness in her eyes. This was not someone who would twist her words and spread them, she knew that, yet years of guarding her emotions and thoughts meant she was unused to directly addressing questions such as those being put to her. Nevertheless, she instantly made up her mind to try to befriend Elizabeth. If nothing else, Christmas at Pemberley would definitely be enjoyable.

"I asked him that very same question a few moments ago," she said finally. "My previous relationship with Richard is obviously something you are aware of," Elizabeth hesitated, but nodded. Diana smiled, showing that she appreciated her honesty. "It is not something I willingly discuss, however I will say that I have yet to feel the same way I felt about any man that I did when I first met him," saying the words out loud made her realize how true they were, and she sighed. Her shoulders slumped. "I married my husband to spite him, Elizabeth. I did not know he still cared for me."

"He must have done something to make you doubt him," said Elizabeth, gently but firmly.

"He did nothing."

"And?" prompted Elizabeth.

Diana smiled bitterly. "Sometimes the man who does nothing is worse than the man who does too much."

"I have seen the way he looks at you," said Elizabeth with conviction. "He made a mistake, I think."

"Then he should rectify it," Diana shrugged. "I have put myself out there for Richard Fitzwilliam more times than I would care to admit. My feelings for him have not changed, but I cannot tell what he feels."

"You want him to come to you," said Elizabeth, realization clouding her tone.

"Of course," Diana threw her a quick smile. "What woman would not?"

"But if he does not know –"

"Richard prides himself on knowing me very well," cut in Diana. "I do not think that has changed, but I have. I will not dive headfirst into something unless I am sure of it, not anymore. I could afford to be reckless at seventeen. Now I can afford many things, but carelessness is not one of them."

"You want him to prove he is not going to leave you?"

"Among other things."

"So you want his friendship first."

"I want him in my life, but I leave it to him to guess in what way." She took out her fan and hid her face behind it, and the shift in her posture told Elizabeth she was done with their current topic. "But enough about men. Though I suppose you could ask me what you please about your betrothed," she added, realising that she had known Elizabeth's fiancé at a time when few had had access to him. "He was always serious when we were younger, but with his family he was kind and generous. It is my belief that Richard has never been serious a day in his life, of course, but his kindness really has no limits. It runs in the family, I suppose."

Elizabeth smiled. "You have known the family long?"

Diana nodded. "My father and the earl were at school and later university together, and my mother and Lady Fitzwilliam became friends after their marriage. We lived in Devon, however, and the Fitzwilliams were northerners. I met their parents from time to time but I first met Richard and his brother was when I was sixteen and in London after the death of my father."

"Oh, I am sorry," Elizabeth's eyes widened.

Diana smiled forcefully. "Its alright, dear. I had no money and no prospects, so I came to London with my mother. We spent what little money we had on lodgings, but Lady Fitzwilliam introduced me to London's finest –" there was no mistaking the sarcasm in her voice "– and the earl was incredibly kind when my wedding approached. And the rest, as they say, is history," she gestured to the house around them, and Elizabeth smiled, but it did not reach her eyes. Diana had no doubt that she knew the real story, and she internally commended her good breeding for not bringing it up. A conversation about her failed romance was not something she was willing to go into.

 **!**

"Well, that _was_ a success, wasn't it?" Lady Fitzwilliam sank down into her chair as the last guest left the house and fanned herself with her hand. "Open the windows, Henry, my dear! My, how stuffy it gets in the summer."

"What do you define as a success, woman?" asked the Earl as he waved at Richard to pour him a glass of water. Diana saw his lips twitch over the rim of the glass. "Your peacocks were pristine, but that's all I paid attention to."

"Peacocks?" questioned Elizabeth quietly as Lady Fitzwilliam retorted to her husband's teasing.

"I assume he's referring to us," whispered back Diana. "Do not take it the wrong way," she added hastily. "The Earl has a very dry sense of humour. He's quite fond of you, I can tell."

"I don't take offense at all," smiled Elizabeth. She glanced at the squabbling couple. "They remind me of my parents. Well," she amended. "If my parents understood each other a bit more."

"Love is a funny thing," said Diana. She resisted the urge to turn her eyes towards Richard. "But Lord and Lady Fitzwilliam are one-of-a-kind. I know she's been telling you to ask me for advice, but you're doing a fine job on your own, Elizabeth. They all loved you."

Elizabeth let out a very un-lady-like snort and raised an eyebrow at Diana. "They all _loved_ me? I expect more honesty from _you_ , Diana."

Diana laughed quietly. "If not love, at least they respect you," she acquiesced. "They saw the way Darcy looks at you, and I'm sure that will be enough to keep them away for now."

"The way he looks at me?"

Diana gave her a look of surprise. "Can you not see it?"

Elizabeth bit her lip. "I often find myself missing very obvious traits in people that I feel I know very well," she said finally. "I did not always enjoy Mr. Darcy's company."

Diana politely did not enquire further, sensing Elizabeth's discomfort. "Well, regardless of the past, you should know that you two are the happiest couple in the room. Your sister is lovely as well," her eyes flitted to Jane Bennet, who was sitting close by and in conversation with Emily and Georgiana. "But she is quiet; your expressiveness leaves little room for doubt."

Elizabeth did not reply, but the thoughtful look in her eyes told Diana that she was considering her words. They chimed back into the conversation going on around the room: Elizabeth engaged in a hot debate with Emily over the latest books one some subject or the other, and Diana found herself in conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner.

They were everything that was genteel and polite, and Diana felt ashamed of her mother's pointed snub of Mrs. Gardiner by deliberately walking and sitting down on the other side of the room. She felt that she made up for it, however, because by the end of their discussion on everything from the latest fashions to the problem of governesses and nannies to the benefits of a country home, Diana had hinted that she would be willing to take callers over the next few days, but only if children would accompany them.

"I don't want to bother you at all with them, my lady," Mrs. Gardiner insisted, even as they were standing up to leave. "My youngest is still a toddler, and my eldest is not yet thirteen."

"I would have you bring them all, but whatever you are comfortable with is fine by me," smiled Diana. "I really do love children, Mrs. Gardiner. I never had any of my own, but I had an abundance of nieces and nephews to keep me company when I lived in the country. I do miss them now."

Mrs. Gardiner smiled and patted her cheek, giving her a brief hug in farewell that both surprised and delighted Diana. She turned around to say goodbye to Elizabeth, only to find Richard standing behind her. His soft expression told her he had heard every word she had said.

Diana found herself avoiding his gaze as she offered him her hand, her conversation with Elizabeth running through her mind. He took her hand, but instead of bringing it to his lips, he squeezed it. "Are you alright?" his quiet voice was so unexpected, his tone so sincere that Diana looked up at him in surprise. His eyes were full of concern. He had clearly heard her mention children.

"Of course," she blinked and offered him a wan smile.

Richard nodded. He had always done that: trusted her words for what they were since he knew no power in the world could make her tell him anything she did not want to. "I meant what I said," he kissed her hand and smiled. "I would like to be friends again."

 _Friends_. She could not ignore the small part of her that wanted something more, but she made up her mind to try. "I'm glad," her smile brightened. "I –" she stopped herself from saying what she wanted to say, that she had missed him. Judging from the way his smile turned into a grin, however, she had a feeling he knew what she had been about to say.

"As did I," his words made her turn slightly pink, and he had the nerve to wink at her before leaning closer and whispering, "That is still a very pretty necklace." And just like that, he moved on to say goodbye to Elizabeth and Diana let out a small gasp of laughter at his comment. A hundred things could change in her life, but Richard Fitzwilliam's desire to always have the last word never would.

* * *

 **AHA! The conversation I hinted at was between Elizabeth and Diana! Apologies to everyone who wanted another showdown between Mina and her daughter, but not to worry, there are many more to come!**

 **This is part one of a chapter I recently split into two, simply because I don't think I could ever beat 5000 words in one update! But now I'm hoping we know exactly where Diana stands. Next up, its Richard's turn.**

 **Also, thank you to Ladybug Reads, JN, tarlily and LovePP for the reviews! I had a guest reviewer a few chapters back who felt that the story lacked decisiveness and a plot, so I'm trying to speed things along so you can figure out where I'm going with this. If anything is still amiss, do let me know.** **Much love. Until next time xx**


	14. Chapter 14

"Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, Miss Georgiana Darcy, Miss Elizabeth Bennet and Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam!"

Mentally making a note to warn her footmen to keep their voices down, Diana stood up from her perch on the divan and curtsied deeply, straightening up and kissing both women's cheeks before offering the men her hand. "I did not expect to see you all so soon!" she greeted, smilingly. Richard's lips lingered against her hand, and she resisted the urge to blush. She quickly turned to Elizabeth. "How is your family faring, dear?"

Elizabeth murmured her answer, and Diana's smile faltered at the lifelessness of her tone. Once they were all seated, she noted the tense look about them, and raised her eyebrows. "As lovely as it is to see all of you, I really must ask what is the matter?"

Georgiana did not speak. Darcy hesitated and Elizabeth kept her eyes on the floor, though she looked annoyed. Richard, however, rolled his eyes. Diana looked at him expectantly. He huffed. "Some busybody took it upon herself to spread a rumour about Elizabeth."

"A rumour," repeated Diana. She raised an eyebrow when no one elaborated. "You all look depressed because of a _rumour_?"

"A rumour that is unfortunately very much grounded in fact," said Elizabeth quietly.

"I see," Diana waited for elaboration once more, but it did not come.

Darcy cleared his throat. "You have a music-room, Lady Herbert, do you not?"

Diana blinked. "Of course," she answered slowly. Darcy's deliberate gaze on his sister, who still had not raised her eyes, made her realize what he meant. She jumped up immediately. "Oh, Miss Georgiana, would you be so kind as to play me a song on the pianoforte? I haven't played in months and its slowly driving me mad!"

Georgiana stood up immediately at the request, looking as if she had expected it. Diana led her to the music room, which fortunately was adjoining her sitting room. She left the door ajar and waited until the music started before turning to her guests expectantly. The music would give them a good deal of privacy, and she silently commended Darcy's quick thinking. She sat down on the sofa and laid a hand on Elizabeth's shoulder kindly. "You don't need to be afraid that I will be indiscreet. Did you come for my help?" Elizabeth bit her lip, but nodded. Diana smiled. "I will be happy to help you, of course. Tell me."

"My sister and her husband arrived in town two nights ago and came to my aunt's house the afternoon after our dinner with Lady Fitzwilliam," began Elizabeth. "She had been to Hertfordshire first, and finding that I was in town she came to see me. Mr. Darcy felt the need to include her in his invitation to dine at his home last night," her tone stated clearly that there had been _no_ need to do such a thing. "Her husband was pointedly not invited. I do not know what Lydia said or did, but this morning my aunt met a friend at the milliner's and was informed that half the _ton_ is under the impression that I am in love with my sister's husband."

The very idea of Elizabeth being in love with someone who was _not_ Mr. Darcy made Diana laugh, and she couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. She shook her head. "My dear, anyone who has seen you two together knows that to be a complete lie."

"As far as being in love with him goes, it _is_ a lie," agreed Elizabeth. Her cheeks were slightly pink, no doubt uncomfortable discussing her private feelings in front of her future husband and his cousin. "However –" and Elizabeth proceeded to tell her the story of Lydia's husband and how they had met, how he had charmed her and worked to ruin Mr. Darcy's reputation and succeeded in all ways until Elizabeth had learned the truth of his character.

Diana listened intently and patted her hand when she was done, however there was no fooling her: from the narration, she knew there was a significant part of the story that Elizabeth had neglected to mention to her, but Diana could not bring herself to ask what it was. This man's reputation was bad, but vague. If Diana did not know Fitzwilliam Darcy, she would have been sure it was just a case of jealousy. However, knowing the family the way she did, she knew Darcy cared for London as little as she did, if not less. Rumours would not bother him, but for some reason, this one did. She frowned. "I really do not understand. The man may be bad, but I'm sure people thought I was in love with ten men before I was married. How does this –"

"Diana," Richard's voice was low when he interrupted her. Diana stopped talking immediately, more out of surprise than obedience. However, she turned her eyes to him and saw that he looked grave. "Lydia's husband is George Wickham."

Diana's eyes widened. " _Wickham_?" she asked incredulously. "That cad you went to university with? Your steward's son?" she directed the last question at Darcy, who seemed surprised that she knew so much. He nodded stiffly, but Diana did not apologize for her language. "What on earth possessed you to allow that man within two feet of a gentleman's family?" she demanded.

"Lydia eloped with him," said Elizabeth. Her surprised eyes flickered from Diana to Richard. "Is this why you insisted we talk to her?" she asked the colonel. Richard nodded. "How do you know him, Diana?"

"I've never met him, I've only heard of him," answered Diana. She gestured to Richard. "When we first met, he would tell me about his university days and Wickham was someone who often came up, though never kindly. In my first season in town I was friends with a Miss Walker, and after I married she wrote to tell me she was being courted by someone by the name of Wickham. When I found out it was the same one I told her immediately, and she soon found out for herself what he was truly like. She was an heiress, of course, and rather silly, but she had an excellent sense of self-preservation."

Everyone in the room looked uncomfortable at her story, and Diana could not figure out what was wrong. Darcy stood up and walked to the open door, checking on his sister. He did not sit down and turned back, his jaw tense. "It appears he is now back because he has burned through most of the money he had when we last met, and he is expecting a decent amount in return for his quitting town immediately."

"And he's spreading rumours that your future wife is in love with your ex-steward's son?"

"I do not think he planned to spread any rumours, his presence in itself is unsettling enough," replied Darcy.

"It was probably Lydia being ridiculous," said Elizabeth exasperatedly. "She talks too much, and I am sure she said something inappropriate at dinner the other night. There _were_ many guests there."

"If its money he wants, then pay him and send him to hell," Diana waved a hand dismissively. "Scum like that belong wherever dead Frenchmen go. Pardon me," she added to Elizabeth. "I do not know if your sister is aware of his true character."

"I do not think she cares," sighed Elizabeth.

"Then perhaps it would be best for you to send them back to your mother's home. What does Wickham do?"

Darcy answered her quickly. "Military."

"Then send him back and stay in London until he cannot possibly wait for your return. Rumours like this come and go, Elizabeth, you do not have to worry about them following you forever. What you _should_ do is get rid of him as soon as possible. Out of sight, out of mind," Diana shrugged. "I will spend my morning in my parlour, I think, tomorrow. If I receive callers, I will do what I can to dispel this nonsense."

"Would you?" Elizabeth looked hopeful.

"Of course, dear," Diana smiled. "Don't fret. This is hardly something a new bride should be worried about. But you must know that your family history will not stay private forever. You are a country lass, but you're marrying a rich man," she gestured to Darcy. "They will want to know what you have that their daughters do not, though I'm not sure George Wickham is top of the list," she rolled her eyes and couldn't help but turn to Richard accusatorily. "Why did you not beat him to a pulp when you laid eyes on him is what I want to know!"

Richard looked surprised at the viciousness of her tone, but his lips twitched. For some reason, her anger seemed to amuse him. "I did not want to deny you the opportunity, should you meet him on the street."

"If I see any questionable men near me, you can be sure I will smack them with the most readily available weapon, even if it is my parasol," retorted Diana.

Elizabeth laughed at that, and the colour returned to Darcy's face at his fiancé's obvious relief. Diana smiled at them and got up, calling Georgiana back and asking a footman to bring some tea.

* * *

 **Okay I know I promised a chapter about Richard's perspective but I couldn't resist adding this in. If it helps, I plan to update sooner with the new chapter because I consider this just a filler, I expect its time I show that there was a reason Lady Fitzwilliam wanted Diana to help Elizabeth, since there is just so much that can go wrong before they get married.**

 **On a side note: I know everyone likes Elizabeth and Diana's friendship, but I also wanted to highlight the fact that this is a primarily Richard/OC story and while I do love writing about Elizabeth and Darcy, I want to really focus on my own character's developing relationships with everyone rather than making this a typical story where my character is suddenly the reason everyone has a HEA. I love writing about flaws, and in my opinion Diana has plenty, but her heart's in the right place, which is why interactions with other characters are so few.**

 **Sorry about the rant. Special thanks to the lovely Lynette, suddenlysingle, JN, LovePP and LookingAnswers for the words of encouragement! In answer to your questions, yes I plan to add a few sprinklings of conversations between Richard and Diana exclusively, and I'm so glad everyone enjoyed the mentions about Caroline Bingley.**

 **Thanks for the reviews! Much love xx**


	15. Chapter 15

_"–_ _I'm sure people thought I was in love with ten men before I was married."_

Richard winced as Diana's words played back in his head. He helped himself to some potatoes and tried to look interested in the conversation, but his mind was elsewhere. When Darcy had called on him that morning and told him of Wickham's arrival, he had been furious. Darcy was forced to physically restrain his cousin from going after the brute. Once Richard had calmed down, Darcy had told him of the rumours, admitting that he did not know how far they had spread but that he was not willing to find out.

Darcy would have preferred to visit Diana alone, but Richard had insisting on coming along. Unwilling to alarm her relations, Elizabeth had made up an excuse to visit Georgiana, forcing the younger girl to accompany them. As capable as Diana was, Richard was perfectly aware that there had been no dire need to visit her. Other than her ability to reassure Elizabeth, there was not much she could do. However, their conversation from three days ago was still at the forefront of his mind. Friendship was the furthest thing he had considered when he had seen her again, but he would not dare to disregard her feelings, not when he owed her so much. And yet, the expression on her face had been full of longing, much like his own –

"Richard?" his mother's voice drew him out of his reverie. She looked concerned. "Are you alright, darling?"

"Of course, mamma," Richard replied quickly. He smiled at her and continued to eat, making more of an effort to be involved in the conversation. Fortunately, his brother seemed to sense where his thoughts were going and swiftly began a talk about the latest news from the front, ensuring Richard would have something to say and thus keeping his mind off of what, or rather _whom,_ he really wanted to think about.

It was not until they were both in the library and his father had retired to his study that Henry broached the subject.

"I hear you went to Mayfair today," said Henry, his tone light. "How is Diana doing? Emily has been meaning to call on her."

"She is well. She mentioned she would take callers tomorrow, you should tell Emily," answered Richard. His brother looked at him pointedly, expecting a better answer. Richard sighed. "What do you want me to say, Henry?"

"I want you to show some of that bravery you've been taught in the army and march on over to her house and declare yourself," Henry spoke casually, as if they were discussing the weather. Richard choked on his drink, causing his brother to roll his eyes in an uncharacteristic display of annoyance. "Come now, Richard. You're in love with her, you always have been. She's a widow now and I'm sure she still has affection for you. Added to that, she is rich."

"You want me to declare myself to a woman I have not seen in years, someone I do not even think I know anymore?" Richard snorted. "I know we differ in our opinions on marriage, brother, but I did not think even you would consider that a wise idea."

"You believe in marrying well, because you do not think a military career would let you earn enough to satisfy a woman," said Henry bluntly. He held up a hand when Richard attempted to protest. "Do not try and defend yourself, brother. I know you better than you think. And while I agree that money is something everyone should take into account before marriage, I also know that you would never be happy unless you married a woman you could respect and love. A sizeable dowry and a house of your own would only make you happy to a certain extent. Fortunately, Diana has money and you are clearly besotted with her."

Richard shook his head. "I won't marry her, not like this."

"Then move on," said Henry simply. Richard looked at him in surprise. Henry sighed. "You are twenty-seven, Richard. You may not think it, but you are getting old."

"Darcy is older than I."

"Yes, but by your logic, Darcy could afford to stay single," pointed out Henry. "Mamma is too afraid to pressure you into courting someone, because you have a nasty habit of disappearing to the continent and putting your life in danger every time she tries to tell you what is best," Richard shrank under his brother's accusing gaze, remembering all too well the last conversation with his mother when she had attempted to coerce him into considering marriage, and he had promptly taken an assignment in France for three months. She had not dared to say anything when he came back, merely hysterical with relief that he had indeed returned alive.

Nevertheless, he refused to change his mind. "I will not marry Diana simply because I need to marry, Henry, she deserves better than that. She deserves better than anything I can give her."

Henry sighed. "And yet you will not move on. Will you pine after her forever?"

"It is not pining," argued Richard. He stood up and began pacing in front of the fire, debating with himself: he trusted his brother to keep his secrets, but he did not trust him not to interfere. "I know I am old," he stopped pacing and turned to face his brother earnestly. "Perhaps not ancient, but I am not one and twenty anymore. I know I should settle down, leave the military so that our parents may stop worrying about my safety, but I need something to _do._ I cannot court a woman like her, someone so above me in every way. I need to be worthy of her. I will never be worthy of Diana, not after what I did to her. She told me she wants us to be friends. I need to respect that."

"And how do you know that is all she wants?" asked Henry, raising his eyebrows.

"Because if she wanted more, she would have said so," Richard was confident. "I may not have seen her for years, but I do know that if she still loved me, she would not have said all she wants is my friendship."

"You seem very sure of that fact. Women do like to be wooed, you know."

"I _am_ sure. She did not care for all that the first time."

"She may care for it _now,_ Richard," insisted Henry. "She may need proof of your devotion to her. She may not trust you."

Richard shook his head. "She knows I left because it was the right thing to do. I regret it, but she made a life for herself as I knew she would."

"But you two have never really spoken about it, have you?"

"We do not need it. Besides, it would hardly be proper."

"There was nothing proper about it!" exclaimed Henry. "She was in love with you and you left her, that is the long and short of it."

Richard shook his head. "I stand by my decision. I will do this at her pace. If she wants to be friends, I will give her that."

Henry sighed. "You refused to even see her when she was married. Where was your friendship then?"

"Things are different now."

"Because she is a widow?"

Richard nodded reluctantly. "If I had seen her in town and she was still married, I would have stayed out of her way. But now, she is alone, and I know she does not like being alone. If she wants a friend, I will be that for her. If she wants more…" he sighed, the very idea making his heart race in a way it had not since he had first met her. "I would rather wait for her to hint at it."

"So let me see if I understand," Henry leaned forward in his chair, his fingers clasped together mock-thoughtfully. "You believe in marrying for money and not love, as long as that woman is not Diana. However, since you _are_ in love, you would like to wait for her to declare herself to you first?" Richard hesitated, Henry's incredulousness finally catching up with him, but his brother went on. "Of course, the last time you wanted to marry her you ran away for eight years because her mother disapproved of the match, and she married a very wealthy earl and spent many content, if not happy, years with him. Keeping that in mind, _and_ keeping in mind the fact that she may be in love with you and may simply think _you_ to be indifferent to _her_ , do you still think your idea is the best course of action?"

"I will not go against her wishes, so yes, it is," said Richard firmly.

"Damn you!" Henry slammed his glass onto the table and ran a hand over his face exhaustedly. "You will not even consider, then, the idea that she may want _you_ to make the first move?"

"She may have changed, Henry, but Diana never played games with me."

"Well, if she is playing one now, I cannot decide who is going to benefit from it," shot back Henry.

Richard huffed and sat down in a chair opposite his brother. "You seem far too interested in my life these days."

Henry sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I am looking out for you," his tone was kind. "You may think of me as the older brother who has nothing to worry about simply because he is the heir, but I do care about you, Richard. I do not want you to think you cannot marry the woman you love simply because you are not good enough. I doubt any of that would matter to Diana. You will always have a home with father, and with myself, rich or poor, wife or no wife," Richard waved away the sentiment immediately, his reaction the same every time his brother tried to explain how unnecessary it was for him to feel inferior simply because he was the younger son. This time, however, Henry took the hint and tried another approach. "I've seen you with Diana, and I truly believe you two would be happy together if you took a chance and spoke with her frankly."

"And if you are wrong?" asked Richard bitterly. "If she does not care for me, if she truly only wants my friendship, then I have ruined any chance I have if I declare myself and she rejects me."

"I would think that she is worth that risk."

"Nothing is worth spending the rest of my life without her," Richard shook his head. "I spent eight years without her, and now I have her. It may not be in the form that I want, but that does not matter. You may disagree, Henry, but I will not do it."

"And you will not even try?"

"To make her fall in love with me again?" Diana's flushed cheeks came to mind, when he had complimented her necklace as she was preparing to leave his parents' house ; the sparkle in her eye when she had heard Wickham's name and demanded to know why he had not punched him on the spot… "It is no matter," he decided. "I will not even think of marriage unless she wants it."

Henry rolled his eyes, and Richard knew he was done with the topic, at least for now. "For a reputed womanizer, you really do not understand women," was all his brother said as he put his empty glass on the desk and departed for bed. Richard followed soon after.

* * *

 **I have an exam on Saturday that I would much prefer never to think about, so I'm procrastinating and uploading this chapter. I hope this clears up any questions anyone may have about where the story is going! We're at a bit of an impasse right now, since neither of them is willing to make the first move: Diana doesn't trust Richard quite yet, and Richard is too afraid to lose her. Never fear, though, fun things will happen soon! A confrontation, and a request for an introduction. I leave to you guys to decide what those words mean!**

 **I only had one review last time, so thank you Ladybug Reads :) Much love xx**


	16. Chapter 16

"Diana!"

"Hello, darling," Diana stood and kissed Lady Rosalind Bertram's cheek. Her friend smiled and sat down opposite her, accepting the cup of tea a footman gave her.

The two women chatted pleasantly, but Diana was no fool. She could see from the way Rose's eyes drifted around the room that her friend had something to say to her, and she did not know how to begin. Diana decided to end her contemplation.

"You can speak to me without fear of a tantrum, Rose," she said as she sipped her tea daintily. "We have both known each other long enough to realize I never lose my temper."

"I have every faith in your ability to keep your temper," replied her friend immediately. She set her cup down on the table before her and clasped her hands in her lap, similar to the way Diana herself did when she was anxious. She threw her a wan smile. "I never could keep a secret from you."

"You are not alone," said Diana dryly. "What is it, dear?"

"I wanted to ask you about your new acquaintances."

Diana raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"The Fitzwilliams."

Diana blinked, her serene demeanour cracking momentarily. She had been expecting something about Elizabeth, maybe a few comments about Darcy. The two women who had come to call on her before Rose had insinuated that the rumours she had been worried about had indeed spread far, but Diana had shut them down coldly, confident in her ability to squash such ridiculous notions. This, however, was unexpected.

"They are hardly new acquaintances," she said finally, hedging the topic. "I have known the family my whole life."

"Have you?" Rose looked surprised. Of course, Diana realized. She had not been in town, the season she had first met Richard.

"Of course. I dine with the Countess every time they are in town, and Emily and I have been friends for years," she smiled warmly, but it did not reach her eyes. Fortunately, Rose did not notice.

"You have seen them often, then, since your marriage?" the hopefulness in her tone was impossible to ignore.

"Well, I moved to Somerset, of course," Diana took a sip of her tea again, willing her hands not to shake. "I suppose I have seen them more often since I moved to town. But what is it that you disapprove of, my dear?" she tried to smile again, attempting to put her friend at ease.

"Oh, nothing! It is just…" Rose hesitated. "I saw you with the Colonel, at the dinner his mother threw for Darcy and his betrothed, Miss Bennet," she said finally.

Now what did _that_ mean? Diana fought to keep her face pleasant. "Yes, I suppose you did. It was his home, after all." Her tone was disinterested as she put her cup down and broke off a piece of cake with her fork. It was easier to control her shaking hands when she did not have to worry about spilling tea on herself.

"Have you known him long?"

Diana seriously doubted she had ever been more uncomfortable in Rose's presence than she was at that moment. "It is hard to keep track. He was often around when I was in my first season. His father and Charles' father were friends as well, if I remember," she threw the last sentence in for good measure, feeling the need to remind Rose that there was nothing inappropriate in her speaking to a man.

However, Rose appeared to have barely heard. Her eyes lit up with a suspicious glint. "He is the younger son, is he not?"

"Yes, Henry is older," utterly confused as to where the conversation had gone, Diana looked at her friend pointedly. "Are you acquainted with the Colonel, dear?"

"Oh, no," uncharacteristically, a blush spread across Rose's cheeks. "I – I met him, briefly, at the dinner. A formal introduction, that is all."

"Oh," Diana blinked. "And…?" she trailed off, looking at Rose encouragingly.

"I – well, I assumed, since you know the family so well, you would, uh –" it was so uncommon for Rose to stammer that it took Diana a good minute to understand what she was implying.

She felt as if a cold hand had gripped her heart and was attempting to pull it from her chest. Of course, how could she have not realized? Richard was remarkably good-looking and charmed every female when he walked into the room simply by the aura he gave off, one of ease and acceptance. It was ridiculous to image her friend would not have noticed: Rose was her age, with a sizeable fortune from her mother, being the only child of an earl whose estate was entailed away. She was beautiful as well, with curly blonde hair that she always took care to wear in the latest styles, green eyes and an attractive figure. She had never had a suitor; it had been acknowledged that she would marry her cousin, the heir to her father's title. However, his elopement with a French girl two years ago meant that she had effectively been single since then. However, she had always had her eye on much younger men, who were easier to snare. At least, that was what Diana had always heard.

"You would like to be introduced?" asked Diana finally. She bit her lip as Rose nodded enthusiastically. "I do not know when we will all next meet, of course, but if the opportunity every arose I suppose I could –" Rose interrupted her immediately, thanking her profusely and giving her a sly look that spoke volumes of her intentions. Her request granted, she promptly delved into the latest gossip, anxiety forgotten.

Across from her, Diana willed herself to remain in control. It was just an introduction. It meant nothing. _But it might lead to something_. She tried to focus on the conversation, but it was difficult. Her love for Richard had not been instantaneous, and neither had his. They had started with a formal introduction as well – he had seen her in Almack's and his mother had quickly introduced them, intending for him to keep her out of trouble since she was known to disappear and strategically avoid dancing at every opportunity. Richard, of course, had been the worst person to keep her in check and had instead spread a rumour that she had a contagious rash on her hands and that was why she always wore gloves, not knowing that it was the newest fashion. When Diana had furiously demanded an explanation, he had merely grinned and told her it would keep the gentlemen from asking for her hand, and had promptly engaged her for the next two sets. Diana had blinked, told him he was possibly the most infuriating man she had ever met, and accepted. They had become almost inseparable after that.

The chances of him making her a second proposal were slim, Diana realized with a sinking heart. Despite her desire to be with him, she knew she had to be careful. Richard had always cared about her, and she did not doubt his affection: she doubted his determination. If at first they had seemed poles apart, they definitely were now. Diana was beautiful and clever, but she felt years older than the cheerful, conventionally pretty woman seated opposite her. Richard had loved her when she was like Rose, unconcerned and bright. Now, after being married and living with another man for eight years, she doubted she was what he wanted.

 **!**

"You seem better," observed Mina.

Diana looked up from the vegetables she was picking at and threw her mother a blank look. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

Mina huffed. " _I beg your pardon_ ," she stressed, correcting her daughter's informal speech. "I said you look well."

"Oh," Diana blinked. "Yes, well, I suppose I do."

"Richard wouldn't have something to do with that, would he?"

Diana groaned. "Mother, really?"

Mina sipped her wine daintily. "It was merely a question, dear."

Diana willed herself to be patient. "Richard and I are friends, mother. We were friends before anything happened, and I want to be friends again. That is all there is."

"It did not seem that way last week."

"Why, because I did not avoid him like the plague in his own home?"

"No, because I specifically told you to stay away from him and you disobeyed me."

Diana snorted. "I am twenty-five, mother. You cannot tell me what is proper and what is not anymore."

"I am your mother whether you are five and twenty or five and fifty," said Mina tersely. She put her fork down on the plate with a loud _clink_ and gave her daughter a look. "And I will not be spoken to like that in my own home."

Diana could not control the bubble of laughter that burst from her lips. "Its not _your_ home," she bit out. She stood up from the table and ran a hand through her hair, her eyes glinting as she felt her temper rising. "It isn't even _my_ home. It is my dead husband's home, a home he left to me because he loved me and wanted me to be comfortable. Alas, I could not feel that way about him. I wonder who is to blame for that?" she questioned, her voice full of sarcasm.

Mina rose from her chair, her eyes narrowed. Immediately, Diana knew she had gone too far. She was a good head taller than Mina, but something about her mother's gaze had always made her feel small. She tried not to cower as Mina crossed the room and stood in front of her daughter, her arms folded across her chest and her jaw tight.

"Do not blame me for your inability to see your good fortune," said Mina coldly. "I did what I thought was right, and I do not regret my actions for a second. It is easy to turn me into the villain, Diana, because you do not want to admit to yourself that Richard did not stay and fight for you."

Diana winced. Her mother had always had the ability to voice exactly the thoughts she did not want to hear. "He would have stayed and married me had you not let your greed get the better of you," she said finally.

Mina's lips twitched into a sardonic smile. "Do you think Richard could afford to provide you with all of this, should he die in battle, Diana? Could he leave you an army of servants, a house in Mayfair, and jewels worth more than your dowry?"

Diana felt tears prick at the corner of her eyes. "I didn't want any of that, mother," she said, her voice breaking. "All I wanted was him. He loved me."

"Any number of men were in love with you at that time!" insisted Mina. "What makes him so special? He was just a _boy_!"

"Are you truly asking me that question?" Diana's eyes widened. "Do I truly need to explain to you why I was heartbroken when the man I loved left me?"

"Yes, you do," said Mina briskly. "You were richer when he left."

"Yes, but I was _miserable_. You cannot _buy_ happiness, mother!"

"You cannot be happy in poverty either!" she shot back. Her hands tightened into fists, and her tone became positively bitter. "You foolish, foolish child, can you not see that I saved you from becoming like myself?"

Diana recoiled as if she had been slapped. Her mother had never once voiced her dissatisfaction with her life. It was an unspoken rule: she had suffered, but she suffered in silence. And her parents' marriage…

"How can you say that?" whispered Diana. She gripped the back of a chair for support. "Daddy loved you."

"He also left me without a penny to my name and a child to care for," snapped Mina. "And make no mistake, child, he _left_ me, and he left you too. Had it not been for the charity of relatives and my efforts, you would never be where you are today. I intended for you to marry well, for both of us. You selfishly thought you could marry an earl's younger son and be happy forever. I had to correct your mistake."

"So your solution was to scare away the only man who truly loved me because he couldn't provide me with a house, an army of servants and expensive clothes?" asked Diana incredulously.

"Oh, yes, my actions sound so terrible _now_ ," Mina rolled her eyes. "I did not hear you complain when you agreed to marry Lord Herbert a week after being introduced!"

"I was a sixteen-year-old child who had just had her heart broken!" Diana was no longer controlling herself. Her tears fell down her red cheeks and her hands were clenched at her sides, to stop herself from ripping out her hair. Her voice rose with every word she spoke. "I lashed out and did what I thought would make me feel better _because I thought he did not love me_. You _lied_ to me. You let me believe he did not care!"

"If he cared, he would have stayed!"

"And if he had?" challenged Diana. "If he had stayed, would you have reconsidered? Would you have decided he was good enough for me, even though he was not a first born son? I was poorer than him, mother!"

"He had no prospects –"

"Nor did I! At least he was going into the military!"

"You had half of London mad over you! And to lower yourself and become a _soldier's_ wife –"

"But _I_ was mad over him!" Diana shrieked, finally unable to put up with her mother's logic. There was a beat of silence after her shout, and Mina looked surprised by her raised voice. Diana had never screamed at her.

Diana straightened her back immediately, a cold expression coming into her eyes and she looked at the woman opposite her. She took a deep breath and broke the painfully loud silence of the room. "I cannot forgive you for what you have done to me, and I never will. I would sooner forgive Richard and marry him, just to spite you."

"Just like you married Herbert to spite Richard." It was not a question. Mina's words were dripping with venom.

Diana felt her heart break all over again as she avoided her eye and walked out of the room, taking care to slam the door behind her.

* * *

 **I have been DYING to write this confrontation since forever. This was originally two chapters, but I decided not to split them so you all could enjoy some angst. Also, my exams end tomorrow and I'll be packing up and returning home, so either we will have another super fast and super long update, or there will be a bit of a wait and then maybe two super long updates to make up for it!**

 **As always, I appreciate all the reviewers who take time out to leave me their comments, and I hope I've added some drama to keep you guys interested this time! Many thanks to MissThank22700, ainokea2810, Ladybug Reads, Mpf2741, Lady Mischief, LovePP, Guest Reviewer and team (so many reviewers this time AAAHHH I WAS SO HAPPY!).**

 **Hope this helps you understand the characters, yes, but maybe a bit of a plot too? Tell me what you think! I always try to take any advice you guys give to heart :)**

 **See you next time! Much love xx**


	17. Chapter 17

"Are you sure, mum?" asked Sarah.

Diana's eyes were glassy, but they were fixed on the mound of clothes at her feet. "Yes, dear."

Sarah looked worried, but curtseyed nevertheless. She picked up the clothes and exited the room with another stack of perfectly folded black dresses in her arms. Diana sat down at her desk heavily, rubbing her eyes and glancing at the pile of fabric on her bed, ready to be sent to the seamstress with measurements for her new wardrobe. Eight months of mourning, according to Herbert family traditions, meant she was at liberty to wean herself off of black, something she had been looking forward to for weeks. Now that it was time, however, she found herself reluctant. It had been an excellent security blanket. She had been a newly-widowed woman who had no need to think of her future, not yet at least. Now, however, she was merely a widow.

Eight months of mourning also meant it had been over two months since she had last spoken to her mother.

They had meals together, and even took callers on Tuesdays when Diana felt up to it, but other than that Diana had refused to speak to her since their argument the day Rose had asked for an introduction to Richard. The house had an air of stillness that was almost suffocating, only alleviated when Mina went out on Wednesdays. Diana had taken to hiding in her bedroom instead of her sitting-room: half the library's books were stacked on her desk, alongside some sewing that she forced herself to complete and unfinished letters.

Never before had she appreciated her friends so much. As if sensing her discomfort, Richard came to call every Tuesday, even stopping by on Wednesdays for tea when he knew she spent her free time reading in the library since her mother was out. Their friendship was flourishing and had quickly settled into the familiar flow of jokes, playful arguments, and Richard's story-telling, since he was now far more well-travelled than her. They talked about the war, politics, music, books, anything they could think of. Diana had always appreciated his candour. He did not skirt around topics that other men did with her, in fact he had always admired her intelligence, and it was clear that he still did. Even though she knew she should not feel so, she was flattered.

Often, he came with his mother, but sometimes he brought Henry along, and the viscount always had some amusing tale to tell about his children that would make her smile. Just last week, they had even brought along young Henry, who had wreaked havoc among her crystal ornaments, and Diana had never laughed more than when she had seen Richard attempt to save the pair of jade dogs that sat on her glass table.

It was during such visits that she caught him looking at her strangely. His expression was almost wistful, but if she ever made to comment about it he would cut her off with some bit of banter that made her forget her initial point completely. They were careful to avoid flirting, even though Diana knew he rarely spoke to women without that natural charm that came off as frankness. Sometimes, they slipped up, as they had when he complimented her old necklace, and she found herself turning pink, but those moments were few.

Elizabeth had come at least twice a week before she left town, with Georgiana, Jane, and her aunt in tow. Reluctantly, she had even consented to bringing her mother once. _That_ visit had left Diana exhausted, but she had somehow enjoyed Mrs. Bennet's non-stop chatter. It was such a contrast to her own mother's crisp responses and small, rare smiles; she had seen Darcy's face when she skilfully engaged his future mother-in-law's attention, and she knew he was both grateful and embarrassed.

She glanced at the clock on the wall and sighed. It was almost tea time, and she knew Richard or someone or the other would be calling on her soon. Casting one last glance at the piles of fabric on her bed, she crossed the room and hesitated by the mirror. She was in an old lavender dress, a change from her regular black that made her realize how pale she had gotten, and how much weight she had lost. Diana had never been vain, but she had always known she was beautiful. Now, however, every time she looked in a mirror all she could think of was Rose, and how beautiful and young her friend looked. Diana looked and felt at least ten years older than her. Sighing, she grabbed a heavy shawl off the rack next to the mirror, draping it across her shoulders and making her way downstairs.

She had barely read a chapter in the book she had left in the room when Rose was introduced by a footman. Her friend gave her a bright smile when she saw her.

"You look lovely!" she exclaimed, kissing her cheek and tugging her shawl off so she could see her dress. "Oh, I _have_ missed you in colours, but this is so old!"

"I haven't had time to get new dresses made," admitted Diana. Lips twitching, she extracted the shawl from Rose's eager clutches and wrapped herself in it once more. "I did not expect you today."

"Well, I did not come yesterday, so I thought I might drop by now. I know your mamma isn't here, I saw your carriage outside the Fitzwilliams," Rose shrugged and sat down opposite her, accepting a bowl of fresh fruit from Diana. "Are you still not speaking to her?"

Diana hesitated. She adored Rose, but the girl was still a girl: she was known to run her mouth. They were so close only because despite her declarations of affection Diana knew she was genuinely too afraid of her to say anything inappropriate. It was not exactly an excellent basis for friendship, but it worked for them. Nevertheless, she could not bring herself to discuss her mother with anyone. Even Richard had tried, unsuccessfully, to get her to talk about it, but Diana had refused. The only reason Rose even knew what was wrong was because she dined with them often, and she had sensed the coldness between mother and daughter.

"We are the same as always, dear," Diana threw her a quick smile and sipped her tea. "Tell me something new."

Needing no further encouragement, Rose launched into the latest news and Diana hummed in agreement at all the appropriate times. She had almost forgotten what time it was until the footman returned and announced Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam.

Diana's heart clenched, but on the surface she merely exchanged a look with Rose and raised her eyebrows, indicating to her friend that she was about to get her introduction. However, a closer glance at the other woman showed that she seemed uncharacteristically nervous. Diana had time only to offer her a half-hearted, comforting smile before Richard walked in.

He looked surprised to see her with company: she doubted he had ever walked in on her sitting with anyone on Wednesdays. However, he quickly bowed to Rose, murmuring a greeting. Diana stood up and offered her hand, which he took with a smile.

"This is my dear friend, Lady Rosalind Bertram," she introduced, extracting her hand from his grip gently and indicating her friend. "You might have met her a few weeks ago, Richard. Rose, this is Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam."

"Indeed, I believe my mother introduced us," Richard gave her a charming smile and bowed. "Very nice to see you again, my lady."

"Likewise," murmured Rose, sitting down and keeping her eyes on the floor. Diana felt like rolling her eyes: she had seen women do the meek act far too many times to take it seriously. She gestured for Richard to sit, only to realize he was staring at her with a strange expression in his eyes.

Fortunately, Rose had not noticed. Diana gave him a pointed look, raising her eyebrows questioningly. His eyes flickered to Rose and back to her, and she understood: he would tell her when they were alone.

They were silent for a few seconds before Diana launched into a discussion of Elizabeth and Darcy's wedding, which was in a fortnight. Rose was slightly acquainted with Miss Bennet, and quickly asked Richard about her, effectively engaging him in conversation. As much as she wanted to do the opposite, Diana dutifully kept her answers to a minimum, steering the conversation as much towards Rose as she possibly could. She saw her friend shoot her grateful glances every time she did so, but inside she felt sick. Not only was it incredibly difficult for her to keep the attentions of a man she clearly wanted on another woman, but the attention that Richard gave her friend made her heart ache. She wanted to trust him again, she wanted to encourage him so he would look at her with the same amount of longing he had before she had insisted they be friends, but she knew she could not, at least not yet.

"What do you think, Diana?" it was not the first time in fifteen minutes Richard had asked her opinion: this time, it was on the new path being made through Hyde Park. Rose had mentioned she enjoyed walks in the morning.

Utterly clueless as to what it could have to do with her, Diana replied nevertheless. Perhaps he had noticed her silence. "I'm sure the paths will be very beneficial to early morning riders. You prefer walks, don't you, dear?" she addressed Rose purposefully, ignoring the stab of guilt as she realized she was testing his newly-found attention towards her.

"And I believe you used to enjoy morning rides when we first met," commented Richard, not even waiting for Rose's answer.

Diana blinked. He _had_ noticed her silence, and he was clearly trying to draw her out. What was more, it was true: she had often accompanied him, Emily and Henry – who had been courting at the time – on rides through the park. She was an excellent rider, but she doubted she had been on a horse in over a year. Amazed that he remembered, she merely nodded.

Something about her expression seemed to please Richard exceedingly. "You did not know her all those years ago," he told Rose. His eyes glinted with mischief. "Her mother was absolutely furious at everything she did."

And just like that, their banter resumed. "I'll thank you not to exaggerate," interjected Diana. "I was a perfect lady."

Richard snorted. "I'm sure the men at Almack's would disagree."

"That was not my fault!" insisted Diana. " _You_ told them all sorts of strange things, and I could not stand their questions."

"I am still surprised you did not get banned from attending."

"Your mother vouched for me," informed Diana, narrowing her eyes at him. "Since her son was the reason I kept getting in such trouble."

"Whatever happened?" asked Rose, finally managing to get a word in. She sounded amused, but also surprised. Diana felt guilty again. After all, she had never told her to what extent her and Richard had been acquainted.

"Your friend had a wonderful habit of hiding behind curtains so she would not have to dance," said Richard, shooting Diana a sly smile. "Is that not true, my lady?"

"It was only twice, and that was because there was a ridiculous man who proposed to me every time I danced with him," said Diana, rolling her eyes. "Hardly a scandal. I found at least three other girls hiding every time I was there."

Richard turned to Rose. "And I assure you, it was often," he looked at Diana again and shook his head. "My mother gave me grief every time you disappeared."

"That is what you get for offering to baby-sit me!"

"A toddler would have been easier to handle!" Richard retorted, but his eyes were twinkling and Diana suddenly felt sixteen again. Her fists clenched. She wanted to punch him, just as she had in the early days of their friendship when he was being infuriating, but in a second the urge was gone and she was once again Lady Diana Herbert.

"You have clearly never looked after a toddler, then," she sipped her tea, willing herself not to snort. "I assure you, I was a perfect dream. What were you saying about the Persian rugs you saw at Lady Heydan's house?" she turned to Rose, giving Richard a roll of her eyes.

Rose answered her question, but her eyes kept flickering to Richard, who had gotten up from his seat and was walking around the room, taking in the watercolours on the walls. Diana knew he recognized some of the pieces she had completed years ago.

"Do you appreciate art, Colonel?" asked Rose when there was a lull in the conversation, getting up from her seat and joining him as he admired a painting near the fireplace. It was one of Diana's best, done in watercolours of her home in Devon, all from memory. Already his conversation had clearly told her that they were far better acquainted than she had realized, and though her friend's spirits were slightly dampened, she had by no means given up.

"I appreciate the artist more than the work itself, I am afraid, my lady," he did not look at her. "It is very well done, Diana."

"Oh, thank you," Diana was not surprised he had recognized her hand, but she was surprised by the compliment.

"You made these?" Rose sounded incredulous. "I had no idea!"

"I've never been very good," admitted Diana.

"She's always been excellent," Richard did not even glance at her.

Diana frowned. Richard was always charming, but his constant attention was strange, even if it was directed at her. His compliments were going to get them both in trouble. "You are too kind, Colonel."

Richard snorted. "Again with the Colonel nonsense. You'd think knowing someone since they were practically children would warrant some sort of familiarity, wouldn't you agree, Lady Rosalind?" he threw his last remark at Rose, but it was clearly meant for Diana.

"Oh, I don't know," Rose sounded slightly confused. "Diana has always been very proper. I suppose you must not take it personally."

"I don't," he winked at her, and Diana's grip on her cup tightened.

She was saved from answering, though, when a footman suddenly entered the room and bowed, but headed towards Richard instead. "Urgent message, sir," he said stiffly. "A messenger arrived at Fitzwilliam House but was told you were here."

"Thank you," Richard looked surprised but accepted the dispatch and broke the seal easily, scanning the message with his usual carelessness. Diana had no way of knowing what was in the ltter, because his expression did not change, but his eyes hardened, and the hand that was not holding the letter clenched into a fist. His eyes flickered up, meeting Diana's for an instant, and she immediately knew something was wrong.

And Richard knew that she had seen right through him. However, he gave her no chance to respond. He merely turned to Rose and bowed. "It has been lovely to meet you again, my lady, but I fear I must depart. My brother demands my attention," he gave her another smile, but it did not reach his eyes. He was still smiling when he crossed the room towards Diana, though his expression was warmer now. "I have to go away for a while," his voice was low so that Rose would not hear. "But I will be back in time to take you and your mother to Darcy's wedding."

"Where are you going?" demanded Diana. She made to stand up, but Richard gripped her hand harder and forced her to stay still. "Richard, what on earth –"

"It is nothing," he assured her quickly. "Emily will be in to see you next week if I cannot make it. I will see you soon," he hesitated, and his tone became gentle, almost a caress as he gazed at her with an intensity that made her heart ache and her stomach erupt into butterflies. "You look lovely today," he said finally. Diana blinked up at him, surprised by his sudden remark. Richard avoided her eye, merely pressed his lips to her hand and let go, taking two steps back and bowing formally before striding out of the room.

Diana barely heard Rose murmur her goodbyes and leave a minute later. Her head was still spinning. Something very, very bad had just happened.


	18. Chapter 18

"I still do not see why my presence is so necessary," huffed Mina as she descended the steps of the house and eyed the carriage parked outside. "The invitation was only addressed to my daughter, after all."

"Indeed, madam, I am sure it was an innocent oversight," said Richard calmly. "My cousin is very much looking forward to seeing both you and Lady Herbert at his wedding. My mother is anxious to see you again as well."

Mina's eyes softened at the mention of her friend, but not by much. "Dear Alexandra. You've been looking after her, have you not?"

Richard merely bowed. There was a commotion at that moment from behind them, and they both turned to see Diana hurtling down the steps at top speed with Sara rushing behind her, holding out a shawl for her to take. Gasping, Diana came to a stop inches from her mother, her hair in disarray – the elegant bun that was normally at the top of her head was now brushing against the nape of her neck – and her eyes bright. She threw Richard a quick grin, but her expression faltered when she turned to Mina.

"Pardon me," she murmured. Sara quickly draped the shawl across her shoulders and she threw her maid a grateful look before looking at her mother again. "I must have forgotten to tell Sara when to wake me."

Mina merely sniffed, then stalked off towards the waiting carriage, where the viscount's profile could be seen from a window as he waited for them to join him. Diana grimaced, gave Sara a quick kiss on her cheek and turned to Richard, only to find him staring at her.

It only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough. Diana looked uncommonly well. In fact, she had begun to look _exceptionally_ well once she had foregone wearing black. The shawl she wore was still black, of course, and her jewels were simple, the usual silver pendant and something sparkly in her ears, but her gown was a deep grey, the skirt just brushing the floor and showing off her dainty ankles as she reached up to adjust a creeping vine that was threatening to get stuck in the heavy wooden doors of the house. On anyone else, the colour would have looked hideous, but never on her. The dullness made her blue eyes dance, and her skin looked as if it had been bathed in moonlight.

By the time Richard realized he was staring, Diana had already begun to smile, her mouth twitching as if she wanted to tease him. However, she surprised him by merely patting his arm and leading the way into the carriage. Mina was seated next to Henry, so Richard willingly slid into the empty place next to Diana. The hostility in the older woman's posture was clearly not lost on Henry, who, despite the fact he knew very little about their family, willingly kept Mina in conversation for the beginning of the journey, allowing Diana and Richard some time to talk.

The first thing she did was whack him on the arm with her fan. "You did not come to see me for a fortnight!" she hissed. "What was it that Henry needed from you so urgently?"

Swallowing the bubble of pleasure that threatened to overcome him at the clear admission that she enjoyed his company as much as he enjoyed hers, Richard merely smiled. "Absence does make the heart grow fonder."

Diana narrowed her eyes. "Richard Fitzwilliam, if you –"

"I will tell you what called me away," he was quick to assure her. "But not just yet. At a later time, perhaps," Diana still looked unconvinced, so he sighed. "It was not Henry. I just did not want to seem rude in front of your friend."

 _Your friend_. An interesting way to talk of someone who had been sizing him up as a potential husband. Diana knew Richard was not stupid; he had seen what Rose wanted the second he had met her, and yet he had acted in the strangest way imaginable – he had been polite to her. "You mean Rose," she said finally. "That was her name."

"Of course," his tone indicated he did not care in the slightest.

The masochist within her encouraged her to pursue the topic. She could ask him the reason for his disappearance later. "What did you think of her?"

"She is a charming and very beautiful woman," Richard shrugged. "What do _you_ think of her?"

Diana was taken aback by the question. "What do _I_ think of her?"

"Yes. Why are you friends with her?"

"Oh," Diana blinked. It had been such a long time since anyone had questioned her decisions. Was he trying to get more information out of her? That was unlike him. He preferred asking her straight out if he wanted something. "I met her after I was married. Her father and my father-in-law were friends. She was kind to me, and she was my age."

"And she's terrified of you," he snorted.

"How did you –"

"You only befriend people who are scared of you," said Richard simply. "You have been like that since I first met you."

"You were not afraid of me."

"No," he admitted. Then he grinned, the now-familiar cheeky glint returning to his eyes. "But then I was the exception, was I not?"

"In more ways than one," muttered Diana to herself. It was disconcerting, still, how well he knew her. Hoping he had not heard her confession, she attempted to steer the conversation back to Rose. "You did not answer me properly, Richard. Do you like her?"

"As a friend of yours?" Richard asked. Diana narrowed her eyes. Oh, he _was_ teasing her now. "I suppose, being a bachelor, I should appreciate that you surround yourself with beautiful women."

"I suppose you should," answered Diana evenly, even as she felt her hands unconsciously tighten around the fan she was holding in her lap.

He noticed. "Of course, it hardly seems fair," he continued casually.

"Oh?" Diana gazed out the window. She looked back at him, hiding her curiosity behind a façade of disinterest. "What is unfair?"

Richard smirked and beckoned her closer. Diana hesitated, but willingly leaned in closer so he could whisper conspiratorially in her ear, "You surround yourself with London's beauties, only to outshine them every time." Diana turned to look at him, her mouth hanging open in shock. Had her mother not been distracted, she was sure she would have scolded her then and there. However, she did not notice, and Richard continued to speak calmly. "I still have not decided if you do it unconsciously or if it is a part of your elaborate scheme to turn the _ton_ on its head."

Diana ignored his jest. "Y-you think I'm prettier than Rose?" she stammered.

Richard frowned, and Diana saw his teasing demeanour crack. He looked at her in confusion, as if questioning why on earth she was asking him such a ridiculous thing. "It is not a matter of what I think," he said slowly. "You _are_ prettier than her. You were one of the most beautiful women when you first came out, and that has not changed at all. Everyone in London thinks so, I assure you."

 _I want to know what you think!_ She wanted to scream at him, but she resisted. Of course, he was only telling her what everyone thought. He had made that clear. They were friends. Friends did not discuss the attractiveness of each other in a dim carriage while seated so close together, no matter that their relatives sat across from them. She had made a near-fatal error by even asking him what he thought of her. Inwardly, she blessed his tendency to overlook the obvious. If Richard did not have a penchant to be particularly obtuse when it came to her – not often, and usually only when she needed him to be –, she might have been in trouble.

Diana offered him a wan smile and busied herself with shuffling around the books that lay next to her on the seat, studiously avoiding his penetrating gaze. After a few moments, he gave up and joined in the conversation with his brother and her mother. Diana chose a book at random and decided to read, craving the quiet serenity a book could provide her with, in contrast with the muddle her thoughts were always in whenever Richard was around.

For quite a while, her methods worked. And then:

"I heard Sir Ralph came to call on you."

Diana looked up from her book curiously at Henry's statement, tuning into the conversation. She remembered Ralph Bolton, a pleasant enough man but rather pompous, in her opinion. She saw her mother's eyes flicker towards her, and immediately looked out the window, pretending to be engrossed in the passing view.

Mina hesitated for only a moment before answering, "Yes, he came. How did you know?"

"He told everyone in the club within hearing distance," Henry spoke airily, but Diana knew it had irritated him. "He has the tendency to exaggerate."

"I have no doubt," Mina still sounded hesitant. "He was away, and came to call when he heard of Charles' passing. Diana was indisposed at the time, so I met with him."

Henry nodded and changed the subject, inquiring after other acquaintances that his mother and Mina had in common. Diana, however, was peeved. As much as she disliked Ralph Bolton, she did not appreciate her mother's interference.

"Keep frowning and your face will stick," Richard sounded amused, and she glanced up to see him watching her with a small smile on his face. "I did not know you liked Bolton's company so much, my lady."

"I don't _dis_ like him," edged Diana. "I would like to be able to accept condolences myself, however. My mother seems to enjoy it more than necessary," she muttered the last part, and Richard quickly disguised his laughter into a cough.

"I'm sure she had a perfectly good reason," Richard assured her. Diana raised an eyebrow at his words, and his lips twitched. "Bolton has a decent amount of money, and two houses in town."

"Yes, but what does – _oh_!" Diana's eyes widened and her expression went from surprised to horrified in a second. Her mother's desire for her to remarry had obviously not gone unnoticed by Richard, but the fact that he would _tease_ her about it caused her no end of embarrassment. Richard continued to look at her, and immediately she felt her cheeks redden. "Are you insinuating –"

"Nothing at all," he shrugged and plucked her book from her limp hands, flipping the pages absently. Despite his flippant tone and gestures, Diana could detect a hint of something strange underneath it all. _Bitterness?_ "I was merely pointing out some well-known facts."

Diana narrowed her eyes. His actions spoke volumes, and she was never one to jump to conclusions, but she could see the jealousy threatening to overcome him. As cheerful as he was, Richard had never been good at waiting for things he wanted. The question was, did he want _her_? "You know what you meant, Richard."

He shook his head, still avoiding her gaze. "I meant no such thing."

"What are you even–"

"Forgive me, it was rude of me to –"

"Don't you start with –"

"If you would let me finish, I –"

"You do not even know what I'm saying!" Diana finally managed to complete her sentence and glared, her anger piqued.

"Do I ever not know?" he finally turned to look at her and, in a gesture he had clearly adopted from her, raised one eyebrow. Diana opened her mouth to retort, but gave up with a very un-ladylike groan of annoyance. "That settles it," he said smugly. He finally stopped flipping and traced a finger down a page, absorbed in his new reading material. Diana glared at him, but sullenly accepted defeat and reached for another book lying on the seat between them, opening it and beginning to read. Despite her annoyance, she could not help but angle her face away so he would not see the smile threatening to creep onto her face.

* * *

 **Hello, world! I'm back from uni and finally getting the hang of this story again, I'll try to stick to my one chapter a week schedule but I might slip up! I tried to add in some conversation this time, because I really want to clarify that they are both _friends_ (though maybe they both need to know this more than us lol).**

 **Next chapter up soon. Thanks to DDM520, Love Fiction.2016, LookingAnswers and a guest reviewer for the kind words! Sorry about the cliffhanger, but there is time before that is revealed :P Any guesses?**

 **Much love xx**


	19. Chapter 19

"I hope your journey was comfortable," the forced politeness in Caroline Bingley's voice was grating on Diana's last nerve, but she maintained her perfectly aloof smile and sipped her tea, nodding slightly in answer to the other woman. Miss Bingley's lip curled back over her teeth at the obvious snub, but Mina quickly engaged her in conversation about something ridiculous such as her dress or bonnet, and Diana was left in peace.

However, it did not last long. The doors of the sitting-room opened and, from her distant perch on a sofa in the vast room, she saw Darcy enter with Bingley and another, unfamiliar man that she assumed must be Bingley's brother-in-law, Mr. Hurst. Henry had departed for the evening, claiming fatigue, and Lord and Lady Fitzwilliam were in Meryton.

They caught sight of the guests quickly. "Ah, Lady Herbert!" Darcy half-ran, half-jogged towards Diana, an uncharacteristic smile on his face as he bowed low in front of her. Diana stood up and returned his smile, squeezing his hand warmly. "I do hope Richard was an acceptable companion on your journey."

"I suppose you could have sent worse," said Diana lightly. She ignored the fact that Darcy had greeted her with obvious exuberance and her mother with very little. In fact, she did not see him even smile at her. He merely bowed and turned to face her again, still smiling.

"The Miss Bennets were asking when to call on you. I hope you would be willing to accept their mother's invitation to dine at Longbourn the day after tomorrow. With your mother, of course."

Diana almost laughed at his thinly-disguised reluctance in the last part of his statement, but refrained from doing so. "I would be delighted, of course. The ceremony is to be next week?"

"Yes," Darcy nodded and sat down on the armchair near her, accepting a cup of tea from Miss Bingley herself without so much as a glance in her direction. This time, Diana was forced to pretend to clear her throat to avoid giggling. "We are waiting for Mrs. Bennet's brother and his family to join us from London, but all the other guests have arrived."

"Oh, the Gardiners?" inquired Diana. Darcy nodded. "How delightful. I did enjoy Mrs. Gardiner's company."

"She is an excellent woman, yes."

"And allow me this opportunity to wish you every happiness, Darcy," she gave him a warm smile. "I confess, I have not seen you this overjoyed in… well, ever, I should say."

"I am the luckiest man in the world," he said simply. Diana's heart swelled at the love that dripped from his every word. "And allow me to thank you for what you did for Elizabeth while in London. You have been very kind."

"I have not been able to do much," Diana waved away his thanks. "However, I plan to help in any way I can as long as you ask. She is a lovely girl, I do hope I get to see more of her."

"Careful, Darcy doesn't share!" the easy voice of Colonel Fitzwilliam broke into their conversation. Richard grinned as he slid into the seat next to Diana without an invitation, leaning forward to catch his cousin's eye. "Perhaps I should claim her hand for a dance in advance, eh?"

Diana rolled her eyes at his childish teasing, while Darcy merely spoke dryly, "You will do as you please, Richard. Only, do have a care," pointedly, his eyes flickered to Caroline Bingley, who was watching the trio with interest.

Richard followed his cousin's line of sight and turned back to look at him, eyebrows raised in surprise. "I am sure I have not the slightest idea what you mean."

Diana frowned. Richard was a flirt, but a harmless one at that. He gave women compliments all the time, and it had never bothered her, not even when she had first fallen head over heels for him. It was just his way, and he had always paraded his title as a second son, to clarify that he was not serious. She had heard that Miss Bingley had been desperate for Darcy, or anyone with a decent fortune for that matter, however her heart had been set on being Mistress of Pemberley. Well, she could not possibly be interested in Richard, could she?

Diana discreetly glanced at her again, only to see her eyeing Richard with a glint in her eye that was becoming all too familiar to her now. She scowled.

Darcy was frowning at his cousin, obviously annoyed that he was not taking the matter seriously. "Hertfordshire is not without its fair share of…" he trailed off suggestively.

Diana could not resist chiming in. "Vultures?" she offered. Both men jumped, as if they had forgotten she was even there. She gave them an innocent smile. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No, my lady," Darcy's lips twitched as he drank his tea. "I do believe you stole the words right from my mouth."

"You two always were utterly boring," Richard rolled his eyes and snagged a biscuit from the plate in Diana's lap. She gave him a look, to which he responded by breaking the biscuit in half and offering her the rest. Clearly, his habits from when he was twenty had not changed. "Would you not appreciate it if I took that woman off your hands?"

"And put her into your mother's?" asked Darcy. Richard smirked. Diana rolled her eyes. "I would thank you to stay away from her, Richard."

"He will," said Diana firmly. Richard raised an eyebrow at her, while Darcy merely looked amused. Perhaps she should not have been so rash, but it was done now. She gave Richard a sickly-sweet smile. "Well, I am a guest at your cousin's wedding. I expect you to be with me at all times. Unless you want to make abandoning me a habit?"

Richard spluttered, almost choking on his biscuit while Darcy laughed his rare, baritone laugh. Diana smoothly changed the subject, ignoring Richard as he attempted to catch her eye. The heat of his gaze was enough to tell her exactly what she needed to know. If he was interested in making her jealous before even declaring himself, he would have to try much harder.

 **!**

"You despise her."

"No such thing!"

"I can see it on your face!"

"You are exaggerating. I am not used to her."

"The _ton_ is exactly like her."

"I did not expect to find the _ton_ in Hertfordshire," said Diana sullenly. Jane giggled while Elizabeth laughed fully, covering her face with her hand. Diana smiled at both women. She had eagerly accompanied the men to Longbourn when they told her they were going that morning, leaving her mother with Lady Fitzwilliam and a rather sulky Richard at home with none other than Caroline Bingley. She had just finished relating the story of their less-than-kind reception from the latter when Elizabeth burst into laughter.

"Perhaps Miss Bingley does not yet know that the Colonel is not the heir," said Elizabeth slyly. Jane looked mildly confused.

"I am quite sure she knows," mumbled Diana, her voice sounding more bitter than she had anticipated.

The elder Miss Bennet finally understood the teasing. "Oh, Lizzy, you're terrible," Jane shook her head. "Perhaps she genuinely –"

"It is hard to associate that wordwith Miss Bingley," snorted Elizabeth, tossing her head. Jane made to protest, but Elizabeth cut her off. "She still makes eyes at my future _husband_ , Jane darling. I doubt the Colonel is safe."

"I just assumed she would want someone… richer," said Diana feebly. Caroline's interest in Richard annoyed her, to be sure, but it was nothing she had not seen before. Women often threw themselves at Richard, flirted, and then ran away when they realized he was a younger son.

"She has a substantial dowry," Elizabeth shrugged carelessly, but her eyes were careful as she observed Diana's face. "Perhaps she no longer cares if the man she marries is rich."

"Or perhaps she merely wants a standing invitation to Pemberley," laughed Diana. She masked her anxiety well, and Elizabeth seemed appeased by her friend's mood as they began walking back towards the house. However, internally she was now desirous to return to Netherfield. It was ridiculous; she had no claim on the man, but the idea of him even glancing at another woman with any form of interest was making her blood boil.

The two sisters were wonderful company, however, and Diana made an effort to quell her unease once they were back inside with the rest of the occupants of the house. Mr. Bennet was in his library with his soon-to-be son-in-laws, and Mrs. Bennet was already fussing over the menu for the next day. Kitty and Mary, the only two unmarried girls left at home, were pleasant enough, but Mary was rather sullen and seemed faintly horrified that Diana was functioning like a normal human being after only just losing her husband. Kitty seemed fascinated with her clothes and jewels, but there was a hint of sense that Diana felt was still growing within her, and so she was kind and tried not to snub the young girl as she chattered her ear off about something or the other. No doubt, she was still recovering from Mrs. Wickham's influence.

She was reflecting on the strange family dynamic after dinner when she was interrupted. "You look deep in thought," he said quietly. She jumped slightly when she realized the gentlemen had re-joined them. She gave him a quick smile, but the Caroline Bingley comment was not forgotten. Her eyes zeroed in on the other woman, sitting across from them and who was still watching them. Richard noticed and clicked his tongue. "Come now, my lady, its rude to stare," oh, he _was_ amused now. Diana's eyes snapped back to his face, her lip curling distastefully at his smug look. Pointedly, she held her fan in front of her face and made to turn away, but he was already sitting next to her.

"Go away, Richard."

"I seem to recall you saying something about abandonment," he made himself comfortable and swiped her fan from her hand, snapping it shut and teasingly holding it out of her reach. "This is my way of showing you I can be quite persistent."

"If only," muttered Diana. She gave up on her fan and instead gave him a wry look. "How was your morning with Miss Bingley?"

"Charming. She showed me Netherfield's gardens and I made my intentions perfectly clear."

Diana felt her heart stop. "You did _what_?"

Richard shrugged. "Isn't that what you and Darcy wanted?"

"Are you _insane_?"

"Now now, that's no way to speak to me," reprimanded Richard. Diana was still staring at him, utterly aghast, when he finally cracked a smile. "Here," his voice became gentle. He reached into his coat pocket and removed a single flower, laying it on her lap along with her fan. Diana's eyes widened. Richard chuckled. "Am I right in assuming it is still your favourite?"

"I – I – well, yes," stammered Diana. She could not look away. The single, deep red carnation that lay across her light blue dress stood out like a sore thumb. She knew she should pick it up and tuck it out of sight, but how could she move? She knew what it meant. Every girl who had spent even half a season in London knew how to decipher the meanings behind every flower ever known to man. And yet, from _Richard_? _Now_? She was utterly confused.

"She looked like she was about to faint," quite a few moments passed before Diana realized Richard was speaking to her. She looked up at him, her eyes still full of questions that, at one glance, she knew he would not answer. "At first I thought it was because she was upset I had cut the flower, then I realized it was because she thought I meant to give it to her. And now, since I have very publicly given it to you, she will leave me alone."

 _"…_ _publicly given it to you…"_ the words finally jolted Diana from her reverie, and she managed to school her expression, going from confused to only slightly bemused before he had even finished speaking. "I see," she was happy that her voice was not shaking. "I suppose now you realize Darcy and I were right?"

"You called her a vulture, Diana," snorted Richard.

"But was I wrong?"

"The woman is probably lonely," he waved a hand carelessly. "Frankly, I was not listening to her. I saw my chance and I took it. She may think we are engaged now, though," he grinned roguishly, eyes twinkling.

Diana rolled her eyes, ignoring the way her heart lurched and hurt at the same time. "That _would_ be a story, would it not?"

"One for the grandchildren," said Richard solemnly. Diana smacked him with her fan, but it was only half-hearted. How silly of her to think that he was giving her a red carnation, which only meant _my heart aches for you_ , solely for the meaning of it. Of course he wanted Miss Bingley off his back. They were merely friends, was that not what she had wanted?

Two hours later, when Miss Bingley continued to watch Richard carefully, Diana realized that was not what she wanted. Not at all.

* * *

 **Hello all! Back with this story, really enjoying it once more, tell me what you thought! Thanks to my reviewers Ladybug Reads, LovePP and a guest reviewer, loved your comments! (Mina can't be thrown off a cliff, though I do feel that urge sometimes too, I assure you).**

 **Until next time! Much love xx**


	20. Chapter 20

"Well, well, don't you look divine."

Diana rolled her eyes as Richard sat down next to her, his grin positively cheeky. She ignored the way her heart skipped a beat – he was wearing his regimentals. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Colonel. You know I am not dancing."

"Of course. But you could at least pretend you might consider it, so I do not have to dance with that vulture."

"Don't be rude, Richard."

"Don't be a prude, Diana."

Diana rolled her eyes and snapped her fan shut, giving him an exasperated look. "Can you not tease Darcy some more and be done with it?"

"Done with what?" asked Richard. He leaned back in his seat comfortably, clearly indicating that he was interested in their conversation more than the eligible and unattached ladies milling about the room after the ceremony.

"Your daily quota of being a pest."

"You wound me," he sounded too amused to actually mean it.

"Mission accomplished, then," Diana resumed fanning herself, but Richard plucked it out of her grasp again and she narrowed her eyes at him. "Oh, you _are_ in a mood today."

"Haven't the slightest idea what you mean," Richard flipped her fan around in his hands, examining it with a curious air. "Is this French?"

"It was a wedding present from your mother," Diana attempted to take it back, but he held it out of her reach again, his expression unreadable. Diana sighed. "What is it?"

"I bought it."

Diana blinked. "You bought a women's accessory? Should I be concerned"

He looked hesitant, and Diana attempted to school her expression into one of faint curiosity rather than eagerness, so he continued. "I asked her to buy one for you, before she left. She was supposed to send it to me so I could give it to you before I joined them. I returned early, so she must have kept it," Richard gave her a wan smile, still twirling the fan in his hand. The twinkle was gone from his eyes. "I am glad she gave it to you, despite my idiocy at the time."

It was the closest they had come to discussing that incident in so many words, and Diana knew she had to tread carefully if she wanted him to be able to speak of it more often. An emotional outburst would not go over well, but neither would ignoring the matter completely. So she merely shrugged. "It is my favourite one. You do have impeccable taste."

"I am glad you liked it."

"I am glad you wanted to buy something for me. You know I never asked for gifts." _You know I never cared that you weren't rich._

"I remember," the smile he gave her was slightly less bitter now. "You hated it when I even sent you flowers after Almack's."

"You insisted on those hideous posies, I did not even need a card to know it was you," Diana rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Not that you ever sent one."

"I couldn't have your mother turn me away," he chuckled. "I was the only man she allowed within twenty feet of you outside of the ballroom, after all."

"Dear Richard, I was the only woman _willing_ to be within twenty feet of you outside of the ballroom," reminded Diana. Richard's smile widened at the term of endearment, and Diana rejoiced internally. He tried to wave her words away, but she persisted. "It is true! You were almost intolerable."

" _Almost_?" Richard raised his eyebrows. "Dare I say that you were _fond_ of me, my lady?"

Diana smiled and looked away, towards the happy couple seated a few yards away. It was easy to forget where she was when Richard engaged her in conversation. They had always managed to create a bubble around themselves, successfully shutting out the rest of the world. "I would not have said yes to you if I was not."

No words were needed after that. She felt his hand brush against hers as he returned the fan, and then he was up and re-joining the crowd, laughing with Kitty Bennet – who seemed to adore the regimentals more than the person wearing them – and utterly delighting one of the Miss Lucas' Diana had been introduced to moments ago. Again, the foreign feeling of jealousy welled up within her, and again Diana crushed it, hiding her face behind her fan once more.

 **!**

"You wore the green today," remarked Mina as they changed for bed. Diana looked up at her mother, surprised to hear her speaking after weeks of silence. They communicated well enough when necessary, but more often than not the servants would relay messages from room to room. There was no one there now. The wedding was over and everyone had retired for bed after wishing the couples a happy few weeks away from the constraints of everyday life. Diana was sharing a room with her mother, almost against her better judgement, but rooms were scarce at Netherfield and she would not be a burden on her less-than-gracious hostess while she could help it.

"I did indeed," answered Diana as she carefully folded up the dress in question and returned it to her trunk. She had seen the raised eyebrows when she had arrived without a maid, but she was used to dressing and undressing herself, and even now preferred to make her hair with her own hands. Her mother's maid helped her when necessary, and so Diana had given Sarah a few days off to go visit her family while she travelled.

Mina hummed. "It becomes you very well. You looked quite lovely."

"Thank you," answered Diana, slightly taken aback. They got into bed and just as she was about to blow out the candle, she heard her mother speak again.

"I saw a red carnation in your book yesterday."

Diana closed her eyes and mentally counted to ten, willing herself to not scream at her mother. "And what of it?" she asked, her tone sharper than she had intended.

"Was it from Richard?"

"If it was?"

"I would have expected you to tell me if you were engaged to him."

"The day I am, I shall be sure to tell you," said Diana, her tone biting. She blew out the candle and pulled the covers forcefully up to her chin, ignoring the fact that her mother was still sitting up in bed and staring at her.

Unfortunately, ignoring her would not make Mina stop. "I warned you to be careful of how you act, even in a village as small as this," she began quietly. "Miss Bingley has been talking."

"Talking?" Diana snorted. "The woman has no brains and even less beauty. Why should I care what she says?"

"What she lacks in aesthetics and wit she more than makes up for in acquaintances. She would not stop talking of your familiarity with Richard, and it was only my presence that prevented her from speaking of it too much," Mina sniffed. "I have been cleaning up your messes since you were a girl, but now –"

"My _messes_ are none of your concern, and you have shown that your ability to clean than up, as you say, only makes them worse," interrupted Diana. Miss Bingley was one thing, but her mother's self-righteous attitude was beginning to wear her down. Mind made up, she tossed the covers off and got dressed in the first clothes she chanced upon, leaving her hair in its messy braid down her back. She threw her mother a look as she pulled on a shawl. "I will be up shortly, once I am sure you are asleep. Do not wait up, for I will just have to find a space in the library to sleep if you do." And she left the room.

* * *

 **Hello, my lovelies! I know it's been forever, and nobody feels worse about it than I do, but life happens. I didn't want to compromise on the quality of this chapter and keep it super long, but I also didn't want to rush out an extra long chapter so I've cut it in half. Next half is a midnight conversation with... Any guesses?**

 **Once again, thank you to the lovely ainokea2810, Jenga0508, Guest, friend and LovePP. 62 reviews! So exciting. Until next time, possibly next week if not sooner. Much love xx**


	21. Chapter 21

Diana stepped behind a bookshelf quickly as soon as she heard the door open, biting her lip. She had wandered into the library shortly after leaving her mother's room and had been relieved to find it empty. She had lit a candle and browsed the shelves, unwilling to venture out to another room where there may yet be people awake. The collection was not extensive, but it was good enough to amuse her for a few hours. It was nearing midnight now, and she hadn't expected anyone to walk in. As soon as she heard voices, however, she had automatically opted to stay out of sight. There was a small alcove behind one of the standing shelves, which had probably been placed there to hide the small opening. She quickly slipped into it, peering out just in time to see a larger candelabra than the one she had been carrying be placed on the table. She could not see who carried it, however. Nevertheless, her desire to remain hidden was solidified when voices wafted towards her, and she realized it was Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst who had entered the room.

"Why must you drag me out of bed at such an hour, Caroline?" Mrs. Hurst sounded tired. "It could have waited until the morrow, could it not have?"

"I could not sleep," snapped Miss Bingley. Her skirts rustled as she sat down. "Must you always be so cranky, Louisa?"

Mrs. Hurst stifled what sounded like a yawn. "Must you always be so dramatic?" she sighed. "And what is it about Lady Herbert that annoys you so? She seems perfectly amiable to me. A little aloof, perhaps, but that is to be expected."

Diana froze. Immediately, she was thankful that she had left her own candle on the other side of the room so her presence would remain unnoticed. The last thing she wanted to do was eavesdrop, but now that they had said her name she knew she would stay instead of attempting to discreetly escape. Taking a deep, silent breath, she sat down on the floor and made sure to stay in the shadows, continuing to listen carefully. She could not see them, but their voices gave them away easily. Miss Bingley clearly had something on her mind.

She was right, for the lady in question adopted a tone of voice that was almost a shriek when Diana's name was mentioned. "She comes from _nothing_ , Louisa!"

"And now she has everything, so she is better off than any of us," scolded Mrs. Hurst. "Do not talk that way, I heard your comments this morning as well. She just got out of mourning and she is close with Darcy's family, of course she would come to the wedding."

"She came to secure a husband."

"She won't find any suitable husbands here," snorted Mrs. Hurst. "You seem to dislike her very much. Whatever did she do?"

"Her choice of company bothers me."

"Is this about her husband or the Colonel?" Mrs. Hurst's voice became curious. Diana frowned. What did Charles have to do with anything? "I told you to stay away from him, _both_ of them in fact. The Colonel is a flirt, he will have no money when his father dies, and no prospects before or after that. A _soldier_ , Caroline?"

"He is Darcy's cousin, and Georgiana's guardian," sniffed Miss Bingley. "And Lady Herbert does not seem to care that he has no prospects." Diana could not decide if she should be happy she was defending Richard, or worried that those two qualities seemed to matter more to her than anything his character had to offer.

Mrs. Hurst groaned. "She has enough money to buy Netherfield should she choose. She is an _earl's_ widow. She is young. She may yet remarry. She has known him for years. I fail to understand why you are even so interested in him."

Miss Bingley sniffed again. It seemed to be a habit of hers. "I do not need more money, and I doubt Darcy would let his favourite cousin starve."

"You cannot be serious," said Mrs. Hurst. She sounded only faintly surprised.

"Why ever not?" asked Miss Bingley. Her tone was not defensive at all. Both women acted as if they were discussing which lace to buy to trim their new gowns, and it made Diana's hands curl into fists. "Mr. Darcy will keep him in his favour, and Lord and Lady Fitzwilliam are generous parents. He will have enough to live on, and he will be away on the continent most of the time. I might even have to stay at Pemberley in his absence."

"So you can create trouble for Elizabeth Bennet, I assume?" Miss Bingley did not respond, but Diana assumed she had made a gesture that confirmed her sister's statement. "Charles will not hear of it. Are you even sure _he_ is interested in you? He is _very_ familiar with Lady Herbert. I have seen the way he looks at her."

"He can be in love with her, as long as he chooses me," said Miss Bingley carelessly. "I remember being talking when she returned to town. Were they not engaged at one point?"

Diana froze.

"Rumours," said Mrs. Hurst dismissively. "Could you imagine them being engaged and remaining so casual after nearly a decade?"

"I would put nothing past her."

"You dislike her so much."

"You forget, Louisa, _I_ would have married Charles Herbert had she and her sneak of a mother not gotten in the way," said Miss Bingley bitterly. "If she wants to marry Richard Fitzwilliam now, I will ensure it does not happen." Diana clapped a hand over her mouth to suppress her gasp of surprise. Was _that_ why her mother was so familiar with Miss Bingley? Could they have known each other socially? It was possible. Diana's introduction had been orchestrated by her mother as well, though she could not remember how it had happened now. She had been horribly upset over Richard's departure until Charles Herbert had started visiting and bestowing enormous amounts of attention on her, and she had jumped at the chance for a distraction. When he proposed, she had understood from her mother that Richard was not coming back, and had accepted.

Her mother had always said Charles had almost been snared by a "vicious creature" until he had met and fallen in love with her. While Diana's bias allowed her to consider Miss Bingley to be that woman, she could not help but feel a pang of remorse. How many lives had been ruined because of her mother's pride and her own recklessness?

"It has been years since that debacle, Caroline," said Mrs. Hurst, for the first time sounding more than sleepy and faintly interested. Her tone was disapproving. "You were never in love with him anyway."

"It was as close to love as I will ever get," said Miss Bingley quietly, sounding so unlike her usual, snarky self that Diana strained her ears in case she would speak some more. However, it seemed the conversation was at an end. There was a rustle of skirts, a candle being blown out, and the two women left the room.

Diana remained in place, too afraid to leave and be caught eavesdropping. Eventually, however, she gathered the courage to return to where she had been sitting previously, on a sofa near a window. It was still dark outside, which meant it had not been long since she had been away. The new information she had received, however, meant that she was more unwilling than ever before to return to her mother's presence.

In fact, as she sank further against the comfortable cushions of the seat, she realized she was seriously considering sending her mother back to their meagre estate in Devon. Her mother had managed it since her father's death with the aid of one of Diana's cousins who lived there and looked after the house. As soon as the idea crossed her mind, she felt guilty for even considering it, but it was tempting. She could send her away and say that she would follow, but she knew she would not, at least not until it became absolutely impossible for her to live alone in London.

But then she would have to leave London, and her friends, and Richard. And _Richard._ Did he even want her? The carnation had been a wonderful gesture, but he had almost clearly stated that it had been to get Miss Bingley off his back. He clearly did not know their history, otherwise perhaps he would not have been so dismissive of her. Diana certainly had been. Now she knew what her mother had been trying to warn her about. Caroline Bingley was a woman who had been scorned far too many times, and now she was out for revenge. Elizabeth had taken Darcy away from her, but now they were married and she could do little else but make them uncomfortable in their own home. However, Diana had unwittingly shown her greatest weakness, her love for Richard, and Miss Bingley was a master at the game every woman of London knew. It was a game that, unfortunately, Diana had stopped playing since Richard had come back into her life, and she was not sure she remembered how to win anymore.

* * *

 **Another short chapter, but I'm hoping it makes up for the fact that the last one was short as well. There's a lot to take in here, I debated between having Diana spend some time with Richard in the library but the reviews I got last time were so overwhelmingly about a confrontation with Miss Bingley that I decided that this would be a better compromise. We now have _two_ women interested in Richard, though for entirely different reasons, and I'm hoping this will push Diana into doing something about her own happiness, for once.**

 **Many thanks to my reviewers!**

 **Lady Mischief:** I do love writing their interactions, and yes Miss Bingley _will_ be put in her place soon, but I hope you have some twisted form of sympathy for her after this chapter!

 **Kss:** There will be a conversation between Richard and Diana soon, but unfortunately not as direct as I would like. Damn Regency etiquettes!

 **LovePP:** So grateful for your kind words! Hopefully this chapter lived up to your expectations, and I hope to hear your thoughts on viper Caroline!

 **tarlily:** She's deciding now! I know I hinted at it this time and I hope you agree that its a good solution, and an apt punishment for Mina!

 **and ainokea2810:** Isn't he just so amazing? Thank you for your kind review!

 **Much love to you all. Until next time! Would love to hear what you guys think xx**


	22. Chapter 22

"Sir Ralph is here, my lady," the tone of the butler was not lost on Diana as she looked up from the letter she was writing, raising a sardonic eyebrow at the old man, who offered her a thin smile. "He insisted on being seated in the parlour."

"Of course, he did," Diana rolled her eyes and got up from her seat, making her way towards the door. "I'll announce myself, Mathews. You know what to do with this," she picked up a sealed letter she had written earlier and handed it to the butler, who glanced at the name written on it and nodded stiffly in understanding. "And don't bother with tea if she does not come," she added. "I don't intend to let him stay long."

"Very good, my lady," Mathews bowed. His tone showed he meant it.

Diana hesitated, glancing at herself in the hallway mirror outside the door of the parlour. Fortunately, in the week since she had returned from Hertfordshire, all her new dresses had arrived. Her hair was carefully done in the style she had tried out a few days previous. The bun was elaborate, with curls and glittery pins that accentuated her pale skin and dark hair. She touched the large silver comb, ensuring it was in place at the best angle to show off the glittering emeralds and diamonds set in it. She had decided against diamond jewellery, opting instead for a large, matching emerald necklace. To soften the approach, she had foregone earrings and worn a new velvet gown that she had ordered specifically for occasions when impressing people was necessary rather than desirable. It had a matching stole that she picked up from where she had draped it across the back of a chair, quickly draping it around herself loosely. All in all, she knew she looked the part she wanted to play. Now, all she needed was everything to go according to plan.

The clock struck half past three. She had half an hour.

Diana entered the parlour in her usual fashion, the one she reserved for the _ton_. Head held high, back straight, hands folded neatly against her stomach, no smile. She offered Sir Ralph the slightest of curtsies and sat down opposite him, ignoring his outstretched hand pointedly.

Sir Ralph was not a bad-looking man, and not an unpleasant one either. He had soft, doe-like brown eyes, blonde hair that was always perfectly combed, and he wore the most flattering colours and styles, to accentuate his athletic figure. He was a few years older than Diana and a widower like her, and had been a great friend of her husband, but she was not naïve enough to miss the way he looked at her, even when she had been in a very public and happy marriage. Clearly, he thought he had a chance now, and it was necessary to correct his opinion.

"My lady, I was most pleased to receive your invitation –" he began, but Diana interrupted him.

"Sir Ralph, let us be plain," the smile that she did offer him was cold, purposefully. "There was no invitation. You wrote to request a private audience and I granted you one because I knew you would not stop calling on me if I did not. It's been most inconvenient; I have not seen many acquaintances since I returned from Darcy's wedding because you insist on coming every day."

"You have been avoiding me?" Ralph blinked at her, as if the very idea was ridiculous. To him, it probably was. Diana was momentarily distracted, however, by a new discovery. His eyes were the same colour as Richard's, oh, but they were so _dull_. Had Richard's eyes ever been without a sparkle, that glimmer of humour and liveliness that she adored? She doubted it. It was a wonder she was even tolerating Sir Ralph now. Lady Diana Herbert was a patient woman, but Diana Harris was not.

At the tone of surprise that Sir Ralph used, however, she could not decide who she should be at that moment.

"I assure you, you have been misinformed if you think I would desire your company or even consider you as more than a friend of my departed husband, may his soul rest in peace." Ah, Lady Diana Herbert it was, then.

Immediately, Sir Ralph sat up straighter. "It is for this reason that I insisted on seeing you, my dear girl!" Diana resisted the urge to snort. Did he think treating her like a child would make her consider him, then? "Charles and I were great friends, and the idea of his widow suffering in the world without him is –"

"My husband made sure I would have nothing to want in the event of his passing, I assure you, Sir Ralph," cut in Diana smoothly, once again not allowing the man to speak. "In addition to that, I have many friends. The Earl of Matlock, as you well know, was my father's greatest friend," Ralph nodded, though grudgingly. Good, he knew when to admit that he had been outdone. "And even if he had not –" she adjusted her shawl, allowing the large emerald necklace to peak through and ensuring it had the desired effect upon the person intended. Indeed, Sir Ralph was struck dumb. _Good_ , she thought smugly. _I'm rich enough to do what I want, and don't you forget it._ "- I would assure you that relying on the charity of his friends is the last thing on my mind."

"Oh," he blinked, and then came to his senses. It seemed he was willing to try one last time. "Oh, well, _charity_ is not the right term, I should –" he tried to speak again, but Diana was already standing up. The clock had just struck four. It was time.

"I am a busy woman, Sir Ralph, as you are no doubt aware," she drifted towards the door, feigning a look of disinterest. Internally, she was praying her plan would work. "I have many people to see, letters to write, finances to manage, that sort of thing. I will give my mother your best, I have been made aware that you have been to see her, of course," she threw him another cold smile, and was pleased to see him look embarrassed. "If you will come this way, Mathews will show you out."

She could not have planned it better. Just as she opened the door to call for Mathews, she heard footsteps and Lady Rosalind Bertram entered the parlour, looking surprised and rather confused. Mathews stopped in the doorway, looking from Diana to Rose to Sir Ralph. Instead of commenting, however, he merely bowed to his mistress and left the room. Diana cheered silently.

"Oh, dear me," she feigned surprise, but kissed Rose's cheeks quickly. "Did I send you that letter already, my dear?"

"You said it was urgent," said Rose slowly. She looked at Sir Ralph suspiciously, her eyes lingering on the expensive ruby ring he wore on his right hand, which was clutching the lapel of his coat self-consciously.

"And so it was, since I have missed you dearly," Diana smiled, and then glanced back, as if suddenly remembering Sir Ralph was still there. "Oh, pardon me for my rudeness. Sir Ralph Bolton, Lady Rosalind Bertram, a very close friend of mine. Sir Ralph was Charles' friend, you know, from the East," she added to Rose, stepping aside and allowing Sir Ralph to offer Rose his hand, into which she gave hers most willingly. "You have no doubt heard of him, Rose, he just purchased that lovely house opposite Lady Heyden's on Park Lane. Did you not, Sir Ralph?"

"Indeed," Sir Ralph smiled pompously, his previous annoyance and confusion clearly gone. "You are Sir John's daughter, I assume?" The appreciative way he was looking at her friend made Diana smirk inwardly, but she was carefully watching Rose. Her plan was hopeless if the other woman did not take the bait.

It was useless to worry, however. Rose smiled that meek, shy smile Diana had seen before, and her eyes drifted to the floor, a becoming pink staining her cheeks as she murmured that yes, she was indeed Lord Bertram's daughter and yes, she had heard of Sir Ralph and it was a pleasure to make his acquaintance.

 _Two down, one to go_ , thought Diana smugly.

"Would you like to stay for tea, Sir Ralph?" she asked out loud. "Rose and I were just going to catch up. You don't mind, do you, Rose, darling?" she caught Rose's eye and winked at her friend, who gave her a sly, and very subtle, wink back. Sir Ralph remained oblivious, his eyes fixated on Rose's chest. Diana made a note to thank Sara for ordering her matching shawl to go with the dress, which was just as low-cut as Rose's.

"Not at all," murmured Rose, her voice still appropriately low. "It would be a pleasure."

"The pleasure, my lady –" Sir Ralph bowed low over her hand and kissed her knuckles, his smile widening at her quiet giggle. "- is all mine."

* * *

 **I'm baaaackk! Oh, how I've missed this story! I had an absolutely _awful_ case of writer's block, but its gone now and I've written out the next chapter as well. Its shorter than this one (maybe, but I may merge the two days I'm writing about into one - it all really depends on how you guys react to my little revelation in this chapter!) but hopefully just as interesting. I planned to use Sir Ralph since the beginning, and I actually wanted to draw out the jealousy factor from Richard's POV, but the very idea of Richard being jealous of a fool like him was funny because he knows Diana so well, _of course_ he'd realize that Ralph doesn't have a shot with her. Still, never say never! Also, I really wanted to show that Diana is very capable of handling the society that Austen worked so hard to portray and satarize, and I feel like her move in this chapter really brought that into focus, so let me know if you think I did a good job, or if there's something I should be working on more!**

 **Thank you to the wonderful reviews I received:**

 **LookingAnswers : I'm so glad you love their relationship!**

 **team. K. putt : the conversation you want is in the works! I have so many different versions of it written out that I want it to be just perfect, but not to worry it'll happen soon. **

**NYT : I'm so glad you saw things from Caroline's perspective, I hate her myself but I felt the need to give her this backstory, and your approval is really supportive. And as for Mina... well, Diana's thinking about something regarding her, maybe it'll come to pass sooner than you guys think?**

 **Deanna27 : thank you so much for your kind words!**

 **Lady Mischief: I had no plans on giving Caroline a blatant love interest, I was thinking of something as more of a background thing, but you may have just given me an interesting idea!**

 **ainokea2810 : Thank you for your support! Lol join the Caroline hate club, you're not alone!**

 **and LovePP: the Caroline chapter is coming soon, and you're right, she may not remember how to play the game but I intend to make sure she wins! Do let me know what you thought of this chapter: is she playing well, or will her money make sure she wins anyway? I'd love to hear your thoughts on the matter!**

 **Until next time, my lovelies (which will probably be this weekend, or same time next week if I opt to make the chapter longer). Much love xx**


	23. Chapter 23

"I am worried about her."

Henry looked up from his newspaper and threw his brother an exasperated look. "Then go _visit_ her, Richard."

"I tried twice. They told me she was unavailable both times."

"Clearly they _lied_. Mother went to see her yesterday and said that she has only just started seeing visitors again. Perhaps she has been ill."

Richard shook his head, gulping down the rest of his tea and staring at the dregs in his cup morosely. They had returned from Hertfordshire over a week ago, in separate carriages since Diana and her mother had travelled with his parents while his brother and he had brought the family carriage back to London, and that was the last he had seen of her. He remembered her looking particularly tired on their last day, but he had not had the chance to speak to her. For some reason, every time he so much as looked at her, Miss Bingley would appear at his elbow out of seemingly nowhere and monopolize his attention. He was gracious, of course, unwilling to be rude to his hostess, but he noticed that as soon as he managed to extract himself from her, Diana would have disappeared. It had continued for the whole day, until he had finally caught her as she was overseeing her luggage being loaded into the carriage.

"You seem distracted," he had said, leaning against the pillars of the front of the house as the footmen loaded the last of the trunks.

She had jumped, as if she had not expected his interruption, and had given him a smile that was so small and hesitant that Richard had frowned at her. "I did not see you there," was all she had said.

He had tried to coax her into talking to him for a few more minutes, but her unwillingness to converse was evident, so he had merely bowed and left her alone, deciding to visit her once they were in London once again. Clearly, that had not worked out.

"Emily is going to see her today with the children," said Henry, interrupting his reverie. "Go with them."

"She invited you, not me," he sighed. "I feel like she does not want to see me, Henry."

"From what I saw at the wedding, I assure you that is not true," Henry rolled his eyes. "Go. I will stay home. They leave after luncheon."

And that was how Richard found himself escorting his sister-in-law, nephew and new-born niece to Mayfair to go visit Diana. They were ushered into her small sitting-room, and only a few minutes later she drifted inside, a small smile on her face. It did not falter when she saw him.

She kissed Emily's cheek, shook hands with Henry and lifted him up into her arms easily as she cooed over Margaret, who had been named only a few weeks previous. When she finally turned to Richard, she gave him a warm smile. "I did not expect to see you here."

"Henry was otherwise occupied," said Richard, taking the hand she offered and squeezing it. "You have been ill?"

"No," Diana shook her head. "Your mother asked me the same thing. I am quite well," she gestured for him to be seated on the armchair he usually occupied and took her own seat near him. To his surprise, she squeezed his hand as she sat down and smiled at him apologetically. "I'm sorry, I know you've been calling. I was avoiding Ralph Bolton," she grimaced.

Richard frowned. "Has he been bothering you? I could speak to him." _And tell him to stay away from you or I'll punch his teeth in._

Diana giggled, as if she had heard his thoughts. "Not to worry, I handled it quite nicely," the twinkle in her eyes told him it was an amusing story. When he asked her to elaborate, however, she shook her head, pursing her lips to suppress her smile. "Oh, no, I would much rather you see my solution with your own eyes. Are you free for dinner tomorrow?"

"Of course." He had no idea if he was free.

"Good. Rose is having a small ball, nothing too big since the season is still months away. You may see for yourself then."

Richard raised his eyebrows. "I do not recall Lady Rosalind sending me an invitation."

Diana waved her hand. "I am your invitation, of course. Emily and Henry are coming as well, Rose called on them yesterday, I believe."

"You seem very pleased," he noted, unable to help the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. Despite the fact that she looked a little tired, her eyes were sparkling as they had been wont to do in the early days of their friendship, and her pale green gown was accessorized with simple, silver jewellery. Interestingly, her wedding ring was missing. The messy look he was quite fond of was there, in the loose curls that framed her face and the shawl that kept slipping from one shoulder. He did not know why, but it made him smile.

Diana seemed oblivious to his stare. She merely grinned and picked up her cup of tea, watching Henry play with the crystal ornaments that he seemed to be rather fond of. "Have you heard from Darcy?" she asked pleasantly, helping herself to a biscuit.

"Yes, I received a letter stating that they have reached Pemberley safely," nodded Richard. He plucked the uneaten biscuit from her hand and broke it in half, handing her one piece and keeping the other for himself. Diana snorted in a most un-ladylike fashion, but did not protest. "They plan to stay there until Christmas, and then return to London for the season. It is Georgiana's first."

"Is it?" Diana raised her eyebrows. "Elizabeth will have her hands full. I do hope Emily will consent to help, and you must tell them to ask me should they need anything. Though, with your mother at the helm I doubt that will be necessary."

Richard chuckled. "Undoubtedly, but you are very kind."

"Do send them my love when you write next. I will host them a few times, once they return."

Richard hummed in response, and Diana turned to Emily, who had finally managed to quiet Margaret, and engaged her in conversation easily. Richard watched Emily and saw that she did not seem to find anything out of the ordinary in Diana's behaviour. Perhaps he was being paranoid. He had given her the carnation, after all, and he was positive she knew what it meant, but he had automatically assumed it had made her uncomfortable and she was now retiring into her shell, when in reality she had obviously hatched a scheme relating to Ralph Bolton that she thought he would find amusing. Hopefully, it was not a proposal, though he did not think Diana was oblivious enough to think he would find the idea of her marrying someone else _funny._

"What do you say, Richard?" Emily's voice drew him out of his thoughts, and he blinked at both women. Emily was looking at him expectantly, but Diana was smiling.

"She asked if you would be willing to accompany us to the park with the children," said Diana quietly, her voice still amused. "Do stop daydreaming, Richard, it's hardly becoming."

Richard snorted. "You'd know all about being _becoming_ , wouldn't you?"

He meant it as a jest, but Diana merely sipped her tea. "Naturally," she answered. Emily rolled her eyes at the two and turned back to her children, and Diana threw him a quick wink. He guffawed.

They exited the house at a leisurely pace. It was still light out, and the weather was pleasant enough to walk to the small park at the end of the street that Diana said was usually filled with children. It was the same that day, and Richard agreed to push Henry on the swings while Diana sat with Emily and Margaret on one of the benches to chat. They were going from one set of swings to another, slightly larger set when Henry spoke up.

"Uncle Richard?"

Richard looked down at the little boy and noted his frown. He bent down and tapped his nose, causing his frown to vanish and his face to scrunch up immediately. "What is it, Henry?"

"Do you like Aunty Diana?" he asked seriously.

Richard paused. He had never heard him refer to her as an aunt, and he was sure Emily had taught him to always call her by her title. "Who told you to call her that?" he asked finally.

"Gran said I could," said Henry. He ducked his head, expecting a scolding. "I'm sorry, Uncle Richard, I won't do it again."

"It's alright, Henry," Richard bent down and picked the little boy up, grinning at him to ease his fears. "You can call her what you like. And yes, I do like her, very much. I've been friends with her for many years."

Henry nodded, clearly appeased, and requested to be pushed on the nearest swing. Richard complied, but he was confused. Why on earth was Henry asking such odd questions, and why had his mother said he could refer to Diana as an aunt? She was completely unaware of what had happened eight years ago, he could say that with full confidence. Had she known, she would never be able to even look at Mina in the same way, and he was sure she would have turned him back as soon as he landed on French soil. It was no secret she loved Diana, and even now he could see that she _wanted_ him to fall in love with her. She just had no idea he had already done so.

"I had no idea pushing a swing required so much concentration," came an amused voice from next to him. Richard blinked and halted the swing as the new addition came walking towards him. Henry glanced back with a pout, only to grin happily when he saw Diana standing with them.

"Emily is gone?" Richard frowned and glanced back at the bench, but it was empty.

"Margaret was getting fussy. I walked them to the house and came back to see if Henry was tired," she gestured to the little boy and nudged Richard to the side gently, taking his place to push the swing. "We will go back to my house soon, darling, you can enjoy yourself for a while longer," she told him, smiling at his happy nod. She pulled the swing back. "Hold on."

"You did not have to walk back alone," said Richard, leaning against the pillar of the swing-set. He folded his arms across his chest, his fingers itching to take over what Diana was doing, but the small smile on her face told him she was enjoying herself.

"I did not want to spoil Henry's fun. I walk to and from here quite often, you needn't worry," she threw him a quick smile. "What have you been up to, for the past few days? I feel like I haven't seen you in ages."

"It hasn't been that long," he argued half-heartedly.

"Oh, you've missed me as well," Diana rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

Richard winked. They chatted pleasantly, on and off, for a quarter of an hour, before he gently grabbed the rope that held the swing and insisted that they start walking back. The park was still quite full, but Henry was smiling sleepily by now, so Richard picked him up and offered Diana his free arm, which she took gratefully.

As they were walking back, a small pug came trotting up and began sniffing Richard's boots. He grunted and stopped walking, afraid to step on it, while Diana bent down to pet it.

"Careful," he warned.

"It is too small to be a threat, do be serious," Diana rolled her eyes. "It must belong to one of the families," she scratched it behind the ears affectionately. "I wonder –"

"There you are!" a young girl in a pretty pink dress came running up, probably no older than thirteen, her golden hair in disarray. She curtseyed quickly and clicked her tongue, causing the dog to dart out from under Diana's hand and fly straight into her arms. She was quickly joined by a much older woman, who smiled at the trio.

"So sorry about my granddaughter and her dog, m'dears," she smiled apologetically. "Puck is a bit spirited, and Jane is no better."

"That's quite all right," smiled Diana. She stood up and linked her arm through Richard's again.

The old woman seemed to smile brighter at that. "Such an attractive couple," she nodded to Henry, who was dozing against Richard's shoulder by now. "And your son is a lovely mix of you both."

Diana's smile froze on her face. Richard's grip on Henry tightened, but he forced himself to nod and smile at the woman, who wished them a good evening before reaching for the little girl's hand and walking away.

They stood still for minutes, or maybe even hours, Richard could not tell. He did not want to look at her, lest he see something that she did not want him to see. Children were a sore topic with her, but to be told something like that in front of _him_ , to be told – not even asked, as if it was obvious – that Henry was not only her son, but _their_ son; he could not imagine how she felt. His own heart was beating rapidly, unbidden images of a little girl with Diana's hair and his colouring or a little boy with her eyes were running through his mind, and he tried desperately to push them away. It was only the soft pressure on his arm of her hand that finally jerked him out of his reverie. When he glanced at her, she was pale and her eyes were slightly misty, but otherwise she appeared fine.

"We shouldn't keep Emily waiting," she smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.

Richard could not speak. He nodded. They walked on in silence, and they were at the house within minutes. Henry was asleep against Richard's shoulder, and they found Emily in the sitting-room having a cup of tea. Margaret was asleep on the sofa, so Diana indicated to Richard to lay Henry on the divan, and she sat down in his usual armchair, leaving him to sit on the chair opposite her. It was entirely too far away, in his opinion, but the way she was carefully avoiding his gaze and conversing quietly with Emily made him feel like perhaps she was doing it on purpose. Sighing, he picked up the newspaper and began to read, intent on avoiding his swirling thoughts for as long as possible.

Half an hour later, a quick glance showed that Diana was gazing at the sleeping children with a look of longing on her face that made his heart ache.

* * *

 **Well, here I am again as promised! Next chapter isn't written, I have a general idea of what I want - it'll probably be the dinner orchestrated by Rose, but there will be surprise guests. What will they do, you ask? Your guess is as good as mine!**

 **Did you like the Richard and Diana interaction? I'm trying to establish some sort of ground here, but I feel like there were more events and less reflection in this one. I threw in that comment about kids and the park scene deliberately, because I felt after the cold Diana I exhibited last chapter, I should show in this chapter someone who is very much human, and very much the same girl Richard fell in love with, even if it is deep down. For their relationship, its important to see what they _were_ like and what they _are_ now. Let me know what you think!**

 **I've had A LOT of reviews this past chapter, and its made me so happy! Many thanks to:**

 **Janet Cobb : you've reviewed so many individual chapters that I don't know where to start, but I'm so happy you're enjoying the story! I love the chess comment haha, that's so true!**

 **NYT : haha I'm glad I'm making you sympathetic for the characters, its the aim! Don't worry, that kick is well deserved and its on its way very soon.**

 **thpeaky : oh I'm so glad things worked out for you! Yes Mina is clearly the villain everyone loves to hate in this story, not sure if I can make anyone feel sorry for _her_ at this point in time but I'm glad you enjoy the story so much!**

 **Deanna27 : Caroline coming up next chapter (oops, did I give something away?) and I hope you enjoyed the R/D moments in this one, let me know what you thought!**

 **Mpf2741 : I'll work on chapter length soon! Glad you enjoyed it so much**

 **LovePP : Good to be back! Thank you for the kind words, so glad you liked the twist!**

 **Until next time! Much love xx**


	24. Chapter 24 (Part 1)

**Hi, all! Longer AN in the next chapter, along with review replies. I'm in a rush just now. This is part 1 of the dinner at Rose's, part 2 will be up soon. Sorry for the shortness. Enjoy! x**

* * *

"I am so glad you came," said Rose in a hushed whisper, latching onto Diana's arm and tugging her away from the door. Diana's eyebrows shot up in amusement, and she exchanged a knowing look with Emily, who rolled her eyes and turned back to her husband. Henry had noticed nothing: he was examining, with some confusion, the vast arrangement of purple flowers on the hall table. Diana felt Richard's fingers slip through the fabric of her shawl as she glided past him, and threw him a quick wink before allowing Rose to pull her into an empty sitting room.

"Darling, you really must give me some warning next time," said Diana airily, brushing a loose curl out of her eyes. "What is it? You left my entire party in the doorway."

"I am so sorry," said Rose. Her face was flushed, and her eyes were sparkling. Diana's smile became slightly more genuine. Despite her flaws, Rose was a good girl, and currently she had never looked happier. "But I simply had to speak to you."

"Understandable, I'm sure," Diana smiled and gratefully accepted the crystal glass offered to her by a footman standing near the door. It was wine. "What is it, dear?"

"Sir Ralph brought me those lovely flowers in the passage," said Rose, wringing her hands together anxiously. "He came an hour early, and I had to rush dressing and come down and sit with him until the guests arrived. I do not understand it!"

"Oh?" Diana raised an eyebrow and sipped her drink slowly. "What is so difficult to understand?"

"One does not simply bring a woman flowers, Diana!" Rose rolled her eyes. "It isn't done!"

"Unless one is trying to win the woman's affections," pointed out Diana.

Rose blushed. "Yes, well –"

"Darling, we are both much too clever for this sort of thing –" _and I want to spend time with Richard_ "– so I really must insist you take me back to the drawing-room and allow yourself to spend time in the company of a man who is obviously infatuated with you," Diana put her glass down and reached for her friend's hand, ignoring her half-hearted attempts to get free and practically dragging her towards the other room. Once inside, Rose merely pressed an air kiss to her cheek and glided towards a corner, where Sir Ralph was standing with an air of self-importance that Diana could sense from even such a distance. However, his whole outlook changed when he saw Rose. His eyes wandered inappropriately, but his smile was genuine as she offered him her hand.

"You are quite clever," said a quiet voice from behind her. Diana jumped, but she barely had time to blink before Richard was next to her, grasping her hand to tuck it into the crook of his elbow and leading her in a leisurely stroll about the room. "Ralph Bolton and Rosalind Bertram? An inspired match."

"Quite inspired," she grinned, and accepted the glass he offered her. She had not finished her last one, after all. _Did he know that?_

"She won't even have to change the initials on her handkerchiefs."

Diana snorted. "Oh yes, that _is_ always a problem, is it not?"

"So I've been told," Richard nodded solemnly. "How on earth did you do it?"

Diana resisted the urge to laugh. "It was entirely unplanned, of course."

"Naturally," his lips twitched. He had seen right through her. "Was this before or after Lady Rosalind's expressed interest in myself?"

Diana sniffed, though she could feel herself blushing. "I haven't the faintest idea what you mean."

Richard smirked and inclined his head, as if accepting her comment, but Diana knew he had not. He was waiting for her to speak again. Immediately, she made up her mind that she would not. She would _not_ give him the satisfaction, and that ridiculous smirk on his face made her want to punch him again. She would _not_ continue this conversation.

Her resolve cracked after five steps. "You would not have lasted one month with Rose," she muttered.

Richard chuckled. He had won. How lovely. _He's going to be insufferable now._ "I agree," the laughter was evident in his voice.

"Then I am glad you think the match is a good one," nodded Diana, barely registering where they were going. He was leading her, and she had never felt the need to pay attention to her surroundings when he was near. "Considering how much you two got along last time you met, I was afraid you might disapprove."

Richard laughed quietly. Diana frowned. He was _laughing_ at her? Ridiculous. The tone of her statements, loaded with jealousy and a slight accusation, was supposed to be lost on him. Her infrequent bouts of jealousy had _always_ been lost on him, because she had never made it a point to highlight how much he upset her. He would flirt with other women, she would get annoyed, he would come back to her – as always – and she would give him the cold shoulder until he said something charming which would lead to her forgiving him for something she was sure he did not know he had even done. This time, however, it was different.

"Take care, Lady Diana, or you may begin to sound jealous," his voice was laced with amusement. Diana opened her mouth to retort, an argument already forming in her mind, but he was still speaking. "Of course, I know you are not, because even if I _were_ interested in Lady Rosalind, I cannot understand why you would even contemplate such a notion. I have told you before, you are by far her superior, and not just because you are beautiful."

"You said that is what _everyone_ thought," muttered Diana, more to herself than him. However, he heard. She felt his hand touch hers, and then it was gone, but the gentle caress was reassuring nonetheless.

"I believe, in this instance, I am quite pleased to say everyone in London has excellent taste, though I will take full credit for realizing it before they did," his tone was still light, but there was an edge that made Diana bite her lip and not respond. He sighed, and tugged on her arm. It was a sign that he wanted her to look at him. She did not. He was silent for a moment, and when he spoke his voice was slightly rough. "Will it be this one until one of us gets married, then?"

Her answer was reflexive. "Which way?" she asked quickly, still refusing to look at him. It had been the last question she thought he would ever ask her. _Married?_ Diana's heart skipped a beat.

His voice was still gruff. She did not dare look at him now. "The misunderstandings. The lack of clarity. I don't know, Diana."

"I do not know either," she answered slowly. "Which one of us is getting married?"

Richard was silent for a few moments, and they completed a round of the room without speaking. When they came to a halt and Diana made to pull away, however, he stopped her. She caught his eye. He looked defeated and sad, and that ever-present longing in his eyes was making her heart clench yet again.

"Neither one of us," he answered finally. "I hope?" he added.

"You hope?" blurted out Diana. "Richard, what –" she wanted to ask what on earth he meant, what was he hoping for, _what_ was he trying to say, and if he still wanted her he should _do_ something about it since she had clearly done something herself if he would just deign to notice, but she heard Emily's voice clearly ring out and call her name, and she sighed. "We are not finished," she said quietly. Without a word, she pushed her now-empty glass into his hands and turned away. He did not try to stop her. She quickly fixed a slightly genuine smile on her face as she neared her friend. "You called?"

"Ralph Bolton is besotted," muttered Emily, linking her arm through hers and jerking her head towards the aforementioned man, who was trailing after Rose as she met her guests like a lost puppy. "I must give you credit, Diana, you are a wonder."

"I did nothing," Diana rolled her eyes. "They were merely introduced through me."

"Henry told me your mother's been pushing him towards you," Emily gave her a knowing look, and Diana sighed. Her friend squeezed her arm sympathetically. "Well, I think you did a wonderful job handling your mamma, but Heaven knows, she couldn't push _you_ towards any man. I think the reason she has made it a point to dislike Richard so much is so you may finally marry him."

" _Emily!_ " Diana's eyes widened, and she pinched her friend soundly. "Really! We are not children anymore, that is hardly appropriate."

"It is the truth," Emily sniffed. "He's besotted with you, even Mamma has noticed."

"Lady Fitzwilliam is very kind –"

"– and she loves you like her own daughter, more than she loves me, I daresay."

Diana sighed. "This is hardly the place, Emily."

"You two are almost inseparable," said Emily persistently. Diana did not answer, and she almost pushed her back in the direction she had come from. "My darling, he is looking at you even now, and he has not looked away since you came to stand with me!"

Diana resisted the urge to turn back. She knew he was watching her. She could feel his eyes boring into the back of her head. He wanted to read her mind, like he had been able to do all those years ago. But Richard had been able to read Diana Harris' mind, and right now she was running on Lady Diana Herbert's laws. And Lady Diana Herbert would _never_ declare herself to a man, no matter how much she loved him and no matter how her heart was breaking without him, until he had shown her that he would stay with her no matter what. Perfect for her as he was, Richard's track record was less than desirable in the one area that mattered most to her.

"He must do more than look, Emily," said Diana firmly. She was unwilling to voice all her thoughts, but with Emily it was different. Emily conveyed information, to be sure, but only as much as required. She could trust Emily to make sure Richard would find out what she was saying. She simply hoped he would understand what she meant by it all. Diana flicked her hair out of her eyes and used that as an excuse to turn her head slightly to the side. The reflection on one of the hanging mirrors showed the back of the room perfectly, and Richard was indeed staring at her.

Richard should have understood what she was doing by now. Perhaps he had, and he was doing the idiotic thing and expecting _her_ to declare herself, or fall to his feet, or a combination of both. But Diana was proud now, and if pride was what was keeping them apart, then she would hate herself for as long as she lived, but she could not back down, not now. She wanted, no, _needed_ the security that his guarantee could offer her.

She knew she had made her move, by keeping Rose away from Richard and ensuring Sir Ralph would not bother her anymore, but she also knew there would not always be such neat, perfect solutions to all her problems every time a new suitor arrived for her, or an heiress set her sights on him. She could not keep doing this forever, neither of them deserved such loneliness. She could see that he felt something for her. Now, he needed to show her how much he felt.

"He would propose to you now if he was sure that is what you wanted," Emily's voice drew her out of her thoughts.

Diana sighed. "And he is not sure?"

Emily bit her lip. "I did not say that."

"You did not have to," Diana smiled sadly and squeezed Emily's arm. "I do know him quite well, you know."

Emily sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "Nothing will convince him to try and speak to you," she admitted quietly. "He is too afraid of rejection. Short of you saying something to him yourself, I fear he will stay quiet about it forever."

"I cannot and will not do that."

"I understand. I wish he did."

Diana shrugged. "Have you tried the wine, darling? It is exquisite."


	25. Chapter 25 (Part 2)

**Very long AN at the end, but please do read. I have an exciting idea! x**

* * *

"Miss Bingley is here, as you requested," murmured Rose, sliding up to her friend and pretending to examine the necklace Diana was wearing. "I assume you would like to be seated near her at dinner?"

"If you don't mind," said Diana, smiling serenely at the milling people. Her tone, however, was hard. "I am with the Fitzwilliam party, yes?"

"Yes, it is you and the colonel together with the viscount and Emily on either side."

"Excellent. Miss Bingley should be directly opposite myself, preferably with none of her acquaintance nearby."

Rose snickered. "My, my, what on earth did she do to offend _you_?"

"She wanted something that I had my eye on," shrugged Diana. "I would like her to know she cannot have it."

"Something, or some _one_?" asked Rose, her eyebrows raised. Diana gave her a look. She held up a hand. "Very well, keep your secrets. I trust you will keep mine?"

"You vanished for over a quarter of an hour to the sitting-room across the hall with Sir Ralph close behind you. If anyone asks, I will say you went upstairs to fetch me a new pair of gloves, since I spilled wine on my own," Diana waved her fingers, indicating the pair of gloves she wore that were clearly not the ones she had entered the house with. "Is that acceptable?"

"You are truly a wonder."

"So they tell me, dear. Shall we?"

"Of course."

Rose drifted away and one of the footmen came to announce that dinner was ready. Diana was just preparing to go inside alone – it was something she had grown used to, being a widow and relatively younger than most of the countesses – but once again she felt someone take her hand and rest it on their arm as she was escorted into the dining-room.

"You cannot keep doing that," said Diana, refusing to look at the man who was leading her. "It looks odd."

"We are a very odd pair," said Richard, his tone casual. "You've been enjoying the wine, I see."

"I hardly think that is any of your concern."

"I think it is."

"In what way?"

"You have a terrible tolerance."

"I assure you, I have no plans to get drunk."

"Well, then, that makes one of us."

"Be serious, Richard."

"I am quite serious."

"You are ridiculous," Diana rolled her eyes, but squeezed his arm anyway. "I won't hold you up if you trip."

"You wound me."

"I don't apologize."

"As expected," they entered the dining-room, and Richard made a face when he saw where they were seated. "Ah, we are to be blessed with the company of Miss Bingley, I see."

"Yes, I am aware."

Richard looked at her in surprise. "You sound as if you knew about the fact."

Diana smiled. "Perhaps I did."

"Should I be concerned?" he asked slowly.

Diana blinked up at him with wide, innocent eyes. "Not at all."

Richard muttered something under his breath and gestured for her to sit first, waving away the footman so he could pull her chair himself. She did, and he slid into his own chair soon after. Emily sat next to him, and she winked at Diana pointedly, causing her to roll her eyes and look the other way just in time to see Henry seated on her other side. He offered her a smile.

"You have been busy," he commented.

"I can't imagine what you mean by that."

"Sir Ralph has been going on and on about his good fortune in having a _sister_ such as yourself, since you introduced him to the lovely Lady Rosalind," Henry raised an eyebrow, and Diana clapped a hand over her mouth to smother her laughter. He smiled wryly. "I am curious to know where his sisterly affection was when I last spoke to him."

Diana collected herself and cleared her throat, though her lips were still twitching. "Nothing makes a man question himself like a pretty woman, Henry," she said, laying her napkin across her lap as the first course was served. "You should know better than most."

"Yes, I suppose," mused Henry, his eyes flickering towards his wife. It was no secret that their courtship had been deliberately short, a grave mistake in the world of London's aristocrats. But Henry had been in love, almost violently so, and Emily had had all the necessary qualifications that would make her an excellent wife. Had they waited, Diana doubted their marriage would have been any happier, but it would definitely have been smoother: Lady Fitzwilliam had not approved of the pretty girl who had made her level-headed son almost crazy with longing.

"Have you heard from your brother, Miss Bingley?" asked Diana, breaking the comfortable silence at their end of the table. Caroline Bingley was seated directly opposite her, flanked on either side by two recent debutantes, cousins of Rose that Diana had met a few times before they had come out. Both girls clearly had no idea who anyone opposite them was, but Diana had smiled at them when they first sat down, thereby ensuring that they would look kindly on her despite what she was about to do.

"Yes, he wrote to say his wedding tour is going well," sniffed Miss Bingley, laying her spoon down on her plate as she answered. Diana saw Richard mimic her from the corner of her eye. He was clearly expecting her to say something else. "A shame, that Eliza Bennet did not want a wedding tour. She preferred to be taken straight to Pemberley."

Diana raised her eyebrows in amusement, her eyes flicking to Richard. They exchanged looks, and Diana turned back to the woman opposite her. "I don't see anything wrong with a woman wanting to see the place she is to call home from now on," she commented lightly. "Pemberley is beautiful, is it not, Richard?"

"Lovely place," agreed Richard. "I'm sure Darcy will ensure she has all the delights and comforts that one would expect on a wedding tour."

"He is a good man."

"One of the best."

"Undoubtedly."

"I did not mean to say anything against _Mr_. Darcy's good breeding," said Miss Bingley immediately. She narrowed her eyes at Diana's look of innocence. "I have seen Pemberley, it is one of the best estates in England."

Diana chucked quietly at her statement, in the maddening way that made the other person want to know exactly what was going through her mind that was making her laugh. At her side, Henry was shaking from suppressed laughter, studiously hiding his chuckles behind his glass of wine. Emily was not listening to the conversation, and Richard was merely observing both women silently.

"What, may I ask, _Lady_ Herbert, is so amusing?" said Miss Bingley finally, her tone curt. The two girls at her sides looked at her in slight horror, clearly picking up on her rude tone, and then their eyes turned to Diana, who was finishing her soup.

"You do not need to stress on titles so much, Miss Bingley, I am aware that Darcy is a gentleman and I am a countess," she said, maintaining her tone of amusement. "Could you pass the bread?"

"What?" snapped Miss Bingley.

Diana looked up from her plate. "The bread," she repeated, deliberately slowly, pointing to the basket near Miss Bingley's elbow. "Could you pass it, dear?"

Miss Bingley huffed and almost threw the basket in her direction, pushing her plate away and taking a sip of her wine. Diana took a roll from the basket and exchanged a look with one of the girls, who gave her a sympathetic smile. She was about to eat when she saw it plucked from her fingers. Rolling her eyes, she turned to Richard, who was breaking it in half and offering her the smaller piece, already chewing on his own portion.

"Will you ever grow up?" she asked him, accepting the roll and tearing off a piece to add it to her soup.

"Would you like me if I did?" he asked.

Diana sniffed, pretended to consider, and then grinned. "Touché," she admitted. Richard threw her a wink, and Diana could have sworn she saw smoke come out of Miss Bingley's ears, while the girls side let out audible sighs at the gesture.

"You have been doing that since you were both children, Richard," said Henry, interrupting the conversation as he took a roll from the basket for himself.

"It is hard to break old habits," shrugged Richard. "Besides, she never finishes the whole thing."

"Because you do not give her the opportunity," pointed out Henry.

"Oh, do leave him be, Henry," said Diana, nudging Richard's shoulder playfully with her own.

Henry sighed. "You bring this upon yourself by defending him."

"Perhaps."

" _And_ she enjoys my attention," added Richard.

Diana let out a very lady-like snort and pushed her plate away as the footmen came to collect the dishes. There was a lull in the conversation and she looked down at her lap demurely, but snuck a glance at Miss Bingley from under her lashes. She was more than a little pleased to see that the lady looked annoyed. However, the glint in her eye was a cause for concern. Diana steeled herself to hear something she would not like.

Fifteen minutes later, it happened. "It was so kind of you and your mother to call on us, Colonel," said Miss Bingley sweetly, all attention on Richard. "My sister and I _so_ enjoyed your company."

Diana willed her hand not to shake as she picked up her glass and took a generous sip of wine. Oh, Caroline Bingley was good, she was _very_ good. The obvious flirting was getting on her nerves, so she was seeking to undermine Diana by highlighting the fact that Richard had been to visit her, and with his _mother_ no less. The lack of context was suggestive, and it irked her: Miss Bingley had gotten her wish. Judging by her smirk, she had been banking on the fact that it would be news to Diana. If they had been engaged, she would have known of it, but they were not, so she had had no idea.

"Ah, yes," Richard cleared his throat, clearly awkward at the prospect of being thrown so blatantly in the middle of whatever competition the two women were having. "It was a pleasure, of course. I do hope Mrs. Hurst was satisfied with the – well, whatever it was. I do apologize, I was rather distracted during the visit."

Diana bit her lip to avoid laughing. Usually so smooth and charming, Richard looked as if he'd rather be anywhere but here, and he was studiously avoiding the gazes of both Diana and Miss Bingley, instead cutting his chicken with a zeal she had seldom seen anyone display at the dinner table. She remembered what the visit must have been about now. Lady Fitzwilliam, on one of her numerous visits to Mayfair since their return from Hertfordshire, had said that Mrs. Hurst had been adamant at finding out where she bought her lace from, and since she had been unwilling to disclose where she did her shopping – " _Such_ a horrid woman, that Caroline Bingley, Diana, I can't tell you, I want her nowhere near my draper" – she had offered to deliver however much she needed. She had obviously ended up doing it herself, and poor Richard had been dragged along.

"It was lace," offered Diana quietly, enjoying the look of indignation that crossed Miss Bingley's face. Henry had once again resorted to laughing behind his wine glass.

"Lace?" asked Richard in confusion.

"Lace. Your mother was supposed to deliver some," Diana patted his arm. "Take no offense, Miss Bingley," she added, noting the shade of puce the other woman's face was slowly turning. "You can hardly expect Richard to remember such things, I daresay he hardly notices what colour I have on half the time." She chose the personal pronoun deliberately, invoking a sense of familiarity that no one at the table would find offensive except the woman opposite her.

"I resent that," muttered Richard as their half of the table laughed at her comment. Miss Bingley gave a pained smile, but the two girls seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely. Diana made a mental note to get their names later on. "I always notice what you wear."

Diana blinked. She could feel herself blushing, and she busied herself with her meal as Richard smirked, and Miss Bingley rolled her eyes. Henry was openly chuckling now, and he patted Diana's shoulder as she dabbed at her mouth with her napkin, hiding her smile. She had forgotten how _fun_ it was to talk to Richard with no boundaries, and clearly he was taking advantage of the fact that she was willing to banter with him in public. The flirtation had always been enjoyable, it had always made her pulse quicken, but now she was blushing like a school-girl who had found out the boy she fancied liked her back.

However, her point had been made. Miss Bingley did not say a word throughout the rest of the meal, and when the women left to go to the drawing-room, she pointedly avoided Diana and her party, sitting with her sister and glaring at anyone who dared to approach. Diana opted for a seat near the instrument, her good mood such that she willingly turned the pages for Emily, who had been asked to play for them until the men arrived, a task she normally abhorred.

 **!**

"Diana was in fine form tonight," chucked Henry, swirling his brandy in his glass as he smirked at his brother. "I was waiting for the claws to come out."

Richard rolled his eyes. "Caroline Bingley deserves all she gets. That woman is atrocious."

"That woman is unlucky in love," corrected Henry. "She's had her eye on Herbert, Darcy, and then you, and she's been thwarted every time. Twice by the same woman, at that. No wonder she dislikes Diana."

"Herbert? Diana's husband?" Richard frowned in confusion.

Henry nodded. "She was almost engaged to him, apparently. Emily heard of it at their wedding from his mother, but she says Diana is completely unaware of the fact, perhaps even to this day. They did not stay in London for long after they were married, and the _ton_ was too impressed by her to even remember the names of her competition."

"And you didn't think to mention this before?" demanded Richard.

Henry shrugged. "It never came up."

Richard did not argue. He took a sip from his own glass, the slight joy he had felt during dinner that only came from any attention Diana gave him slowly fading. "That explains her behaviour tonight, then."

Henry snorted. "You think all that was because Miss Bingley wanted to marry her dead husband? Richard, it was all for _you_."

Richard shook his head. "Diana knows I would never even consider Miss Bingley."

"She also knows you would never consider Lady Rosalind, and yet she felt the need to eradicate her from your line of sight by using Sir Ralph," Henry raised his eyebrows at his brother's look of disbelief. "You truly think she did it all for a bit of fun?"

"I assumed she was annoyed by Ralph's attention."

"A rejection would have worked just fine as well, she did not need to be a matchmaker."

"She has no need to consider any other woman as her competitor," insisted Richard. "I make it plain that I have eyes only for her."

"Have you told her that?"

Richard sighed. "Not this again, Henry. I told you, I cannot take the risk."

"She is taking risks every day for you!"

"She is not. She is a clever woman and she is playing a clever game, but that is all. If society turns on her she will not survive it; she has worked too hard to gain their respect."

"The _ton_ respects no one. They fear Diana, because she is a very clever woman."

"And as such, I can expect her to do something clever which will clearly state what she wants me to do," said Richard simply.

Henry put down his glass and fixed his brother with a hard look. "You truly do expect a declaration from her, don't you?" he asked finally.

"I think she is fully capable of doing it should she prefer."

Henry groaned and tossed back his drink. "I cannot deal with your bull-headedness," he declared, standing up. "I am going to re-join the ladies."

Richard hung back, allowing the rest of the men to file out of the room, and exited last. Someone was playing the pianoforte in the drawing-room, and he spotted the pastel colour of Diana's dress near the instrument. She was turning pages for Emily, a task he knew she hated. The smile on her face, however, could lead one who knew her less to believe there was no other place she'd rather be. She looked up at the entrance of the men, and caught his eye.

The smile she gave him was blinding. Richard felt himself come to a halt, taking advantage of the flurry of activity simply to stare at her. Could Henry be right? Were her recent actions the sign he had been waiting for? It was possible. He was reluctant to admit that she might return his feelings, _and_ want him to make a confession, because he realized how strange it would be. He had dreamed of little else for eight years. Could he stop dreaming now, and start living it?

Diana's smile made it seem like he could.

* * *

 **Hello, all! Sorry for the lack of response last chapter, I'm travelling next week so I'm busy busy busy. First off, responses to chapter 23 reviews:**

 **ainokea2810:** **Glad you liked it!**

 **Deanna27:** **We'll get into the children part soon, but I'm glad you liked the R/D scenes!**

 **LovePP:** **Hope you enjoy Caroline's part!**

 **NYT:** **Thank you so much for the encouragement, you're so right sometimes I just want to lock them in the attic and have Sara forget where the key is, if only that would be realistic! And I'm glad you think I'm doing well on the reflection bit, I would hate for anyone to be confused about how my characters think, I'm sure they're confused enough themselves!**

 **Janet** **Cobb: Very sweet, I know! x**

 **Moving on, here is the promised Caroline Bingley chapter! I hope it lives up to the hype. I didn't want Diana to be too harsh, because I know I've unknowingly created some sympathy for her in some of the readers, but I _did_ want to highlight that she's really an unsavoury character, and I'm not interested in writing her a redemption storyline. She enjoys making other people's lives as miserable as her own. I've given her a reason to do so, so to speak, but it doesn't mean I'm okay with how she acts (look at me, talking like she's a real person instead of someone I've basically made up hahaha).**

 **Also, bear in mind that a few chapters ago Richard received a letter, and never said anything about it even though Diana asked him what it was about. We're going to revisit that soon, I just wanted to remind those of you that may have forgotten it happened!**

 **Anyway, chapter 24 reviews:**

 **Guest:** **Very true! I agree, hopefully you'll soon see that its not just pride that's keeping them apart, but that's another story for another time.**

 **LovePP:** **I know exactly how you feel! Oh well, fingers crossed that something happens soon (hint: it does!). Thank you for your kind words, as always.**

 **Deanna27: who do you think should blink first?**

 **NYT:** **oOOOooO the idea of making one of the relatives meddle is sooo tempting, but I can safely say that that's not how this story will go! The trigger will come soon, I promise. Stay tuned!**

 **Mpf2741:** **thank you for!**

 **SecretKeeper33:** **Thank you! I know the wait is just awful, but don't worry it'll happen sooner rather than later!**

 **LookingAnswers:** **Fingers crossed that it happens soon!**

 **Gaskellian:** **I'm very glad that you share my opinion on P &P stories, as much as I love the romance between Elizabeth and Darcy I adore the fact that we as writers can play around with different characters and the societal values that Austen loved satirising and at times appreciated via her writing. Your words mean so much, I really appreciate the encouragement. Hope you keep enjoying the story!**

 **Big hugs to all the reviewers! I noticed I had 98 reviews, and I was thinking if I hit 100 soon I'd write a one-shot, sort of like a flashback into what Diana and Richard were like when they first met? I've outlined lots of random scenes in the story so far, but if you guys think its a good idea to have a proper one-shot on something let me know and I'll work on a few story-lines that I could come up with and you can tell me which ones you'd prefer!**

 **Anyway, until next time (probably next week as I'm still travelling)! Much love xx**


	26. Chapter 26

"You receive a letter nearly every week, Richard," commented his father idly as he flipped through his newspaper.

Richard grimaced and accepted another letter off the silver tray the butler was offering him. He knew exactly what his father meant by that statement. He wanted to know who was writing to him, and for what reason. but Lord Henry Fitzwilliam would never just _ask_ his son that. That would show ill-breeding. "It is from the Lieutenant General, Father."

"Every week? From Crooke?" asked Henry in surprise. "What does he have to do with you?"

Lord Fitzwilliam put his paper down, his face paling considerably. "Is that why Corporal Hastings sent you the telegram that day? Richard, what did –"

Richard studiously avoided the gaze of both men and stood from the table, bowing stiffly. "It is a letter that needs an immediate reply, I am afraid. We will discuss this later. Father, Henry," he nodded and walked out of the room, ignoring his mother's parlour where he normally preferred to spend his mornings and opting instead for his own bedroom on the second floor.

He closed the door sharply and sank into an armchair near the window, his hands shaking only slightly. Diana's smile from the night before was still swimming in front of his eyes, and he chastised himself before ripping open the letter and scanning the contents hastily. It was dated one week prior.

 _Fitzwilliam_

 _I received your request for a delay in your promotion to Major General until after Christmas time this morning. To say that I was shocked is an understatement. You know we need all the men we can get, and when last we spoke you seemed anxious for the opportunity to receive the position, and the six-month tour of the continent that would inevitable follow._

 _If you are having second thoughts, I am afraid it is too late to turn back now. His Majesty's army requires your presence, but I will consent to wait until after the new year for you to officially begin your duties, since you have an immaculate record (surprisingly – I say that because have known you for many years, soldier). The situation is unorthodox as well, you are aware that promotions out of turn are incredibly rare, so I am willing to make an exception since I have already made so many for you. There is some work you can do for us in the meantime at the London offices, be prepared to speak to Corporal Hastings about it within the week._

 _Your new rank is effective immediately. Congratulations, Major General._

Richard did not bother to read the signature, and tossed the letter onto the table next to him before running a hand through his hair in frustration. He hadn't seen Lieutenant General Crooke for months. It had been even before he had gone with Darcy to Rosings, that fateful trip that had changed his cousin so much. He had met Crooke in London. He was friends with his father, and he had been visiting for a short while before returning to the continent, where the battle was still raging.

Richard had always admired Crooke. As a young man, aimless but knowing he needed an aim because of his birth, he had seized upon the military as a career option after meeting James Crooke, the roughish officer who had just scraped by in university but had been called a brilliant strategist by every man who had ever met him. When the weather version of that officer, now a decorated soldier and fighting for King and Country, had told him bluntly that he was due for a promotion, Richard had been elated. When he had returned from his first tour, he had taken the new assignment in London quietly, knowing it was only done because of his father's influence and his mother's worry, and that was one of the reasons he had refused to tell his parents about his decision to return to the continent as soon as Crooke could make the necessary arrangements.

But then that letter from Hastings had come, when he was in Mayfair looking at Diana in her pale gown with her hair falling into her eyes and some woman trying to flirt with him, and suddenly he had realized how idiotic it was to want to go and fight on French soil when there was a beautiful woman who could, perhaps, be convinced to love him again if he just had the time to show her how much he cared about her.

 _Time._ He had always assumed he had too much of it, living with reckless abandon and not caring what anyone thought of him as long as he could have a good time. Could he still do that? The desire to go and fight, to _matter_ was still there, but did it overcome his desire to stay with her, perhaps even _be_ with her?

He had no answer. As in all moments of distress, Richard reached into his pocket and drew out the silver watch, now rather worse for wear, and flipped open the back. The picture was wrinkled and falling apart at the ends, but it was still her as he had remembered her when he had been abroad. His heart clenched when he realized that, if he continued to do nothing, this would be the only token he would have of her once he left again.

 **!**

"He is ill?" Alexandra Fitzwilliam blinked up at the footman who had delivered the message. "You're quite sure, Andrew?"

"Yes, my lady, the Colonel has a headache and would like not to be disturbed tonight. He requested a tray in his room."

"A tray in his room?" Lady Fitzwilliam was still stunned. "You did tell him who was expected for dinner tonight, did you not?"

"The Lady Diana Herbert and her mother, yes, my lady, I did."

"And he still said he was sick?"

"Mother," interjected Emily gently. Her mother-in-law turned to look at her, her face still full of confusion, and Emily motioned to the footman. "Do as the Colonel says, Andrew," when he bowed and left the room, Emily sighed. "Mother, that was terribly tactless."

"I was in shock, my dear," Lady Fitzwilliam shook her head. "That boy jumps at the opportunity to be near her! And now –"

"I am sure both Richard and Diana will be alright one night away from each other."

"Any more nights away and we may have to reintroduce them."

"Be serious, Mother. They are _always_ together," protested Emily. "Perhaps Richard wants to collect his thoughts, decide on what to say to her?"

Lady Fitzwilliam sniffed. "Three little words often suffice, in my experience."

"Not for Richard and Diana," Emily shook her head. "And there there's this business with the telegrams and the letters from the Lieutenant General, perhaps Richard is –"

"What?" asked Lady Fitzwilliam sharply. She turned to look at Emily, her eyes narrow. "What letters, Emily?"

Emily bit her lip, paling considerably. "H-Henry mentioned it this morning," she stammered out. Moments like these always reminded her why she had been utterly terrified of the woman opposite her when her husband had first started courting her. "He s-said that R-Richard has been receiving l-letters from Crooke, and Corporal H-Hastings sent a t-telegram as well."

Lady Fitzwilliam sat very still for a moment, and then cleared her throat. "Well, that explains why Henry was so anxious to leave this morning for the club," she said stiffly. "Excuse me, dear."

"Where are you going?" asked Emily in surprise. "Mother, the guests –"

"I would like to speak to my son," answered Lady Fitzwilliam quietly. "You will send a messenger to Mayfair and tell Diana that we will see her tomorrow instead of tonight."

Emily nodded mutely, and Lady Fitzwilliam swept out of the room and up the stairs, her mouth set in a firm line, but her hands shook as she grasped the railing and made her way up to her son's room. The door was firmly shut, but she could hear him moving around inside – pacing, by the sounds of it. She did not knock, but merely walked in.

"I asked not to be – Mother?" Richard frowned in confusion from in front of the fireplace. "W-what are you doing here?"

Everyone was stammering today, it seemed. Lady Fitzwilliam did not answer, merely sat in the old, stuffed armchair Richard insisted on keeping in his room. It was at least twenty years old and clashed horribly with everything else in the house, but her son loved it and she had reluctantly allowed it to be kept. She would never tell him that she had often done her sewing in his room, in his chair, when he had been away.

"What did the letter say?" she asked, her voice even. There was no trace of anger, or bitterness, or even sadness, but Richard paled nevertheless and took a step back. He opened and closed his mouth several times, before heaving a large sigh and coming to stand before her. He rested his hand on her shoulder.

"He promoted me to Major-General," he told her simply. His tone was gentle, but Lady Fitzwilliam closed her eyes and leaned her head back as if he had physically slapped her.

"And did he do that because he often promotes men stationed in _London_ to go fight on the continent, or was it because you asked him to?"

She did not open her eyes when Richard sighed quietly. "He made the offer, but it was my decision," he said quietly.

"And you have accepted it?"

"Mother, I –"

"That is a yes. Very well, then," she stood up abruptly. Richard's face fell when he saw her wet eyes, but she ignored his expression. Alexandra Fitzwilliam's heart had been broken too many times by the boy she had lovingly raised and wanted to keep close to her for as long as she could. She was used to the pain by now. "We will host a banquet in celebration, of course. When do you travel?"

"I requested an extension until after Christmas," he said. "Mother, please try to understand."

"I cannot try to do the impossible, Richard, I shall only try to do what I must," she patted her hair to make sure it was still in place, and then nodded. "We can have Christmas at Pemberley this year, of course. You will miss Georgiana's coming out, but that cannot be avoided. You will also be unavailable for Henry and Emily's anniversary, since I am sure you will be gone for at least six months, if not more. Then there is Aunt Isabella's ball the fortnight after the season begins, we really must send her a letter for that. If Christmas is your last holiday I suppose it would make sense to spend it at the manor, but Darcy and Georgiana would want you to be with them. What has Darcy said about this? I cannot imagine he will be pleased, but I –"

"Mother," Richard interrupted her gently and reached to grasp her hand, so she let him. Her knees were weak, and her hands were still shaking. They were cold by now, as well. Alexandra Fitzwilliam had worked very hard in her life to make sure nothing shocked her, but her younger son, her reckless, noble, _beautiful_ boy seemed fond of knocking her off-balance.

Richard had noticed her tears before she had, and he was wiping them away now and pulling her into his arms, holding her close and allowing her to cry hysterically onto his shoulder the same way she had the first time he had told her he was going away. The sickness and tension incresed tenfold now as she clutched at her son's shirt and held him closer. The war was getting worse, people were _dying_ out there, and her son wanted to _go_ there? It was unthinkable and irresponsible and so like Richard that she was surprised at herself for not realizing that he would do something like this sooner.

"I am so sorry," he whispered, his own voice cracking. "Mother, you have to understand, I –"

"I don't want to understand!" she shrieked, surprising them both by the extent of her emotions. Fortunately, her voice was muffled because she was still sobbing hysterically into his chest. "I will not bury my baby boy, Richard, I will _not_."

"You will not," he kissed the top of her head soothingly. "I would never do that to you."

"You did not think of me when you agreed to this – this – idiocy!" she spluttered. Another thought suddenly struck her, and she almost stopped breathing. "You did not think of _her_ either," she choked out. Richard froze, and she knew she was right. Another sob escaped her lips. "Oh, Richard, how could you?"

"I don't know, Mamma," his voice was lower than she had ever heard it, and Lady Fitzwilliam looked up at him in surprise through her tears. He looked so heartbroken, and so young. It only made her weep harder.

Richard merely kissed her forehead and continued to hug her, tear tracks clearly visible on his own cheeks.

* * *

 **And that, my friends, is why this story is categorized as Angst. Because I'm a horrible person.**

 **WHAT HAVE I DONE?**

 **Onto reviews! So many last time, and we've hit 110 woohoooo I'm so happy. I will work on the promised throwback oneshot when I am back from travelling next week, so let me know what you guys want to read! I promise, it'll be happier than this chapter.**

 **Many thanks to:**

 **LovePP: Glad to hear that you enjoyed it!**

 **Mpf2741: You were right, Emily isn't being used! And yes thank you for being my 100th reviewer, the oneshot will be officially dedicated to you!**

 **elizabeth. mary. stark: Oooo I like that idea! I'm definitely going to want to play around with that one now, you may see it pop up and I will be sure to give you credit for that! Elizabeth will be back soon, not to worry. The girls may make an appearance again soon too haha**

 **LookingAnswers: I'm so happy you enjoyed it, I loved writing it!**

 **Janet Cobb: that's a good idea for a oneshot haha! A series on Richard and Diana locked in a room together for any number of hours that forces one to make a move on the other!**

 **suddenlysingle: if only we were that lucky!**

 **janashe : Glad you liked the idea, let me know what you would like to see! And don't worry, I love this story too much to let it go now!**

 **JN : Thank you so much for your kind words, they mean a lot!**

 **Guest : Ah, so many questions, so little time to answer them! Makes me wish this story could be never-ending, but alas, all good things must come to an end soon. Hopefully, this one will have a happy ending (I can almost guarantee that!). Let me know if you have any ideas about the oneshots!**

 **NYT : Yes, I understand its hard to hate Caroline 100% but I do agree with your take that she's a less effective version of Diana, poor thing. Unlucky in life, love and wit! What an awful combination. Also, yes I'm glad you noticed the bit about the debutantes! It was a nice touch, if i do say so myself!**

 **MissThank22700 : An excellent idea for all men, fictional or otherwise! And I'm so glad you're enjoying the story, cheers!**

 **Wow, I've never answered so many reviews since I've started writing this, so thank you so much for all the love. I hope you guys at least agree that this chapter makes the story super interesting (I'm not optimistic enough to think I will receive no hate for adding this in...). Next chapter, more Diana, maybe some R/D action, but my ideas may change (depending on how many people threaten to kill me ahahahha).**

 **I'm so nervous for your feedback. Until next time! Much love xx**


	27. Chapter 27

_Clink_. The sound of the silverware hitting the plates was the only noise at the table, and Diana was getting faintly irritated. After the abrupt cancellation of a dinner she had been looking forward to for days, mostly because her mother had become extra overbearing as of late, the entire Fitzwilliam family had arrived at her home the next day, apologetic but determined to stay for luncheon. While the men sat in a corner and talked of Heaven only knew what with solemn faces and in hushed voices, Diana had unwillingly listened to Emily prattle on about something ridiculous, unusual for the viscount's wife, who was a clever, witty woman with excellent spirits. Lady Fitzwilliam hardly spoke at all, allowing Mina to carry the conversation and only moving occasionally to grasp Diana's hand fleetingly, giving her a sad smile as she did so.

Diana had put up with the curious moods willingly enough, but it was bordering on offensive now. The earl ate quickly and without tasting his food, Lady Fitzwilliam barely touched her plate, Henry was more interested in his wine than anything else, and Emily seemed content to stare at Diana with her large, doe-like eyes that seemed very close to filling with tears. Richard did not even look at her.

"Is anyone going to tell me what on earth is the matter?" asked Diana finally. Collectively, her guests flinched. Except Richard. He merely closed his eyes and sighed. Diana's eyes narrowed, but before she could speak, her mother interrupted.

" _Diana!_ " she hissed. "You will not speak to your guests that way!"

"I will not have my guests _not_ speak to me either," shot back Diana, ignoring the disapproval that emitted from her mother at her words. "Henry?"

The viscount choked on his wine.

Diana rolled her eyes. "Emily? What is it?"

"I – I – I"

Amidst his sister-in-law's stammering, Richard abruptly got up from the table and exited the room without a word. Diana looked after him in surprise, and exchanged a look with Henry. The viscount angled his head to the side slightly, indicating that she should follow. Diana's eyes flickered to his parents, and then back to him. Henry gave her a wan smile, wordlessly assuring her that he would handle anything they threw his way.

Nodding slightly, Diana pushed her chair back and followed Richard out of the dining-room. She found him in her sitting-room, standing by the fire and examining a large painting on top of it. He did not turn around when she entered.

"Richard?" Diana crossed the room and hesitantly lay her hand on his arm. "Has something happened?"

"This is very good," was all he said. He did not shake off her hand, but gave no indication that he had felt it. He pointed to the painting. "Did you do it?"

"My father did," she answered, blinking at the choice of topic. "What do –"

"I have to tell you something," he said curtly. Still avoiding her eyes, he turned away from the painting and moved towards the middle of the room, facing the door. "You should sit."

"I'd rather stand," Diana folded her arms across her chest. "And I would like you to tell me right now what it is that has your entire family so agitated."

Richard laughed humourlessly. He kept his back to her, but reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled letter, holding it out for her to take.

Diana frowned. "What is that?"

"Read it."

There was no gentler way to do it. Richard knew, even if it was not love, she did care for him, and the news that he would soon be gone would not bode well with her. He had not planned to tell her like this, but what could he do? He did not regret his actions, and the decision to ask Crooke for a way out into the continent had had nothing to do with her. The decision to leave, however, was infinitely harder to make now that she was back in his life.

He was dreading her reaction. He had seen her transform before his very eyes into the cold, aloof creature she showed to the rest of the world. Would she do it again, now, to him? He could not be sure. After all, this was Diana. She never reacted the way he expected her to.

He heard a strangled gasp, which indicated that she had reached the part where the letter said he would have to report back after the New Year. Finally, he turned around.

Diana was paler than he had ever seen her, and the crumpled letter was once again crushed in the hands of a woman he loved, though this time there were no tears in her eyes. There was just horror, shock and… betrayal?

Richard winced and took a careful step towards her. His movement seemed to bring her back to the present. She let out a ragged breath and grasped the back of a chair, her knuckles white with the effort to stay upright. Reflexively, Richard caught her arm and tried to make her sit down, but her body was stiff. Her voice was hoarse when she spoke. "This is after I saw you again. You agreed to take the assignment even though you _knew_ –" a choked sob cut her off, but her eyes were still dry. She tried to push him away, but Richard held tight, his actions automatic. She was too emotional to be left to her own devices, and he knew she would have no qualms about throwing something at his head if she felt like it. And _what_ had she just said? What did she think he knew?

"Diana, you need to calm down," he tried to soothe her, but her breathing was getting erratic. Her vice-like grip transferred from the chair to his shoulder, and there was a strange, wild look in her eyes when he finally caught her gaze again. With a sudden burst of energy, she pushed him off and backed away, her eyes already red with repressed tears.

He should have reacted quicker. Diana glided in and out of rooms on good days, but nobody knew better than Richard how easy it was for her to let herself go when she was disturbed or confused, and he was sure the current circumstances allowed her to be both. She tripped over her own hem as she walked backwards, and he saw a look of panic flash across her face before she fell, the side of her head hitting a glass table resting between the matching chairs, one of which she had been holding on to, before she hit the floor with a muffled sound.

Richard's movements were automatic as he closed the distance between them in a trice. He was surprised at how methodical he was being; within seconds he was bending down next to her crumpled form, gently pushing her hair away to note the gash across her temple which was bleeding profusely, and the lack of colour in her cheeks. Her eyes were closed, and his heart ached when he noted the dark circles under her eyes, the slight dent between her eyebrows. What kind of expression did she wear all day, that he only noticed such things when her guard was down?

"Damn it," he muttered. He picked up her hand, gently, and felt for a pulse. His hands were shaking too much to register anything. Throwing propriety out the window, he touched her neck and was relieved to find that, though dull, her pulse was beating fine. He scanned her face quickly for injuries as her eyelids began to flutter. At least she was still halfway conscious.

"Richard?" her voice was hoarse. She was blinking rapidly, and he could tell that her inability to focus on his face, which was hovering very close to her own, was probably due to a concussion. He hushed her, still finding himself unable to speak, and tried to help her sit. She leaned back against the leg of a chair, raising a hand to touch the bleeding cut on her temple and wincing when she did so. "What just –"

"What's happened?" Mina's voice was loud and demanding, and the commotion near the door alerted him to the fact that everyone had entered the room. Richard did not back away, still grasping Diana's hand. Her eyes were closed again, and he found himself raising his other hand to her colourless cheek. She leaned her face against it, the dent between her eyebrows deepening. She was in pain.

"You should call the surgeon," said Henry firmly. Richard did not need to glance back to know that his brother would be trying to placate Diana's mother. "She is bleeding, she needs –"

" _What did you do to her?_ " Mina shrieked. Reluctantly, Richard glanced over his shoulder and saw that she held the letter in her hand, and was looking at him with pure fury. She pushed the letter at the nearest person, which just happened to be his father, her face a mask of rage. "What is that letter supposed to mean?"

"What Richard decides to tell or not tell his friends is none of our concern, Mina," said Lord Fitzwilliam firmly. He grasped her by the elbow and helped her to sit down, jerking his head towards Henry. "Send for the doctor, and get her a glass of brandy. Diana, my dear," his tone was infinitely more gentle when he turned to the woman still sitting on the floor. "Are you well enough to walk?"

"She most certainly is not," Lady Fitzwilliam had finally gotten over the shock of seeing her youngest son crouched near the almost-unconscious form of the woman she loved like a daughter, and her face was grim. "Richard, help her stand and carry her up to her room. Emily, run up and call her maid, I think her name is Sarah."

Emily darted out of the room at once, but Richard hesitated. It was all very well for his mother to order them all about like this, but the colour was slightly returning to Diana's face, and her eyes were focusing better now. There was no _need_ to carry her, and yet he could see she had not protested the command. He helped her stand carefully, taking longer than required – and the arm around her waist was certainly unneeded as well – but as soon as she was upright she stumbled, and he was suddenly glad for the arm that her mother was glaring at. Diana's eyes fluttered closed, and her head sagged against his arm.

Lady Fitzwilliam clicked her tongue. "Be more careful, Richard," she scolded. She came to stand next to him and pressed her own fingers against Diana's pulse, her eyes narrowing as she did so.

Richard ignored his mother's look and threw Mina a wary glance, but picked Diana up easily, cradling her in his arms like a child. Her eyes hadn't opened since she had stood, but her breathing was steady. Had she hit her head harder than he realized? A thousand questions ran in and out of his mind as he made sure she would not fall from his arms when they ascended the stairs. She barely weighed anything at all, a fact in itself that was slightly worrying but could remain unaddressed, for the time being. Sarah came into the room, almost in tears when she saw her mistress, but she was coherent and quick, leading him up the stairs and into a small bedroom that he was almost sure was _not_ the mistress' chamber, but had been outfitted as such recently. How long had she been living in this small room?

"Put her on the bed, Richard," his mother was still there, and he realized he had been hovering in the doorway. Quickly, he deposited her on the bed, noting with unease that she still did not move. A footman called out, signalling that the doctor had arrived. For a moment, the occupants in the room hesitated, unsure as to what should be done.

"Someone should be with my lady when Dr. Ellcott arrives," said Sarah quietly.

Her murmur seemed to snap everyone out of their daze. "Yes, of course," Lady Fitzwilliam nodded stiffly. "I will go down to Mina. You stay with her, Sarah. Emily, you should return home in the carriage, your children will be missing you," Emily looked reluctant, but did not dare to disobey her mother-in-law, so she nodded as well. "Richard, you will wait outside and alert us when the doctor is finished."

Richard nodded stiffly and followed his mother out of the door. There were two chairs placed against the wall near her door, and he sank into one tiredly. Emily offered him a comforting smile before descending the stairs, but Lady Fitzwilliam stayed.

"You did not have to tell her in such a way," said his mother quietly.

"I did not intend for her to get hurt, mother."

"I doubt you intended anything at all," she sighed. "Go see her when the doctor is done, and for heaven's sake _talk_ to her."

And with that, she left, and Richard resolved to sit and wait, and finally, _finally_ , plan.

* * *

 **Hello all! This is it! This is the chapter! I have rewritten the exact moment Diana finds out he is leaving at least 4 times, and I have to say this is what I'm most happy with, notwithstanding the fact that a little accidental hear injury never killed anyone (... incorrect humour at a bad time).**

 **So, tell me what did you guys think? I tried to stay true to the story - I cannot imagine either of my two characters saying I LOVE YOU so easily. I predict many conversations, some tears (of course there will be tears!) and perhaps a few characters being pushed out of the way for good!**

 **On to my reviewers! Many thanks to:**

 **thpeaky: Thank you for your wonderful review, I hope this makes up for the long wait!**

 **LovePP: I do guarantee a HEA but I plan to leave you guessing as to how that will come about!**

 **tarlily: No break in the recent future, but I will try for something lighter soon, I feel the need arising.**

 **Jasnfamily4: I'm so glad you liked it! 3**

 **JN: Thank you!**

 **khushishankar: While I agree with your point of view, I just have to say that there are so many external factors at play in their relationship that hesitance is normal, and probably a little expected as well. They may love each other and fit right into each other's lives seamlessly, but they don't trust each other at all - she isn't sure that he won't run away in case he feels like he's not good enough for her, and she's changed so much that he can't even be sure that she still loves him enough to want to be with him after she's had a taste of the fine life. But I do agree, its so frustrating. I wish I could make the characters do what I want!**

 **Deanna27: Aha, you've hit the nail on the head, but Diana doesn't know how long ago the decision was made! Now, I could make you all suffer and have her think he made it after he saw her again, or make her understand that it wasn't like that. What shall I do? Decisions, decisions...**

 **Christinebj: Of course that's why I was nervous! I love how attached everyone is to my characters, but I do dread the flames sometimes... And I hope this lives up to expectations!**

 **Megzy: You and me both!**

 **: Welcome to the story! Let's hope for the best!**

 **NYT: Ah, you always do understand me so well! Hope this chapter is acceptable!**

 **LookingAnswers: I'm so glad 3**

 **And in answer to the four guest reviewers all signed as guest: Thank you for your wonderful reviews, I will hint that one of you has just spoiled the whole story for me, but I won't say who!**

 **Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, I know its kind of sad but the action is picking up now so I hope you'll all be okay with the slight tinge of depression, I promise, I swear it will get happy sooner than soon! Until next time, much love xx**


	28. Chapter 28

"Absolutely not."

"My lady, I –"

"Thank you for your time, Dr. Ellcott. It's been a pleasure," Diana's tone was dismissive, even going so far as to ignore the glare her normally even-tempered maid was giving her. The doctor shrugged helplessly and bowed, murmuring something about seeing himself out. Diana groaned and lay back against her pillows, touching the stark white bandage that was stuck to her temple moodily as the door closed softly behind him. "Stop looking at me like that, Sarah."

"Yes, mum," said Sarah stoically. She collected the dress she had changed Diana out of – there was blood on the shoulder – and the extra bandages laying on the floor. When she was done, she turned to face her, still expressionless. "Will there be anything else?"

Diana groaned. "Yes. Let it out, whatever it is you want to say."

Sarah did not need to be told twice. "I _told_ you to eat!" she exclaimed. "I told you to sleep, and look after yourself, and you did not, and then –"

"I tripped over my own dress!" interrupted Diana. She folded her arms across her chest. " _Hardly_ a reason to warrant you _screaming_ at me!"

"You screamed at the doctor!" shot back Sarah.

Diana rolled her eyes. "He told me I had a _panic attack!_ Of all the ridiculous –"

"You just found out the man you have been in love with for _years_ is going off to war, what did you expect –"

"I have never heard such a nonsensical diagnosis in my life!"

" _You_ are nonsensical!" said Sarah, her voice high-pitched and her face red with anger. "And you are self-destructive!"

"I am careless, I admit, but not –"

A sharp knock at the door cut their argument short. Diana lay back against her pillows, massaging her un-bandaged temple and returning Sarah's glare as she stomped out of the room, pausing at the threshold long enough to bob a curtsey and let Richard in.

He looked grim. Diana sighed. "Have you come to scream at me as well?"

"The doctor said not to distress you," he offered her a small smile and entered the room, hesitating before closing the door behind him. Diana eyed it curiously, but not warily. "I managed to do just the opposite a while ago. I am sorry."

"It's quite alright, I had no idea I was not to be distressed either," Diana shrugged. She knew that she should probably address the elephant in the room, but she did not want to, not yet at least. Richard looked as though he was struggling for words, so Diana settled for watching in amusement as he began to pace, almost absently, nodding his head at whatever she had been saying even after she had stopped speaking. She waited until he had completed seven lengths of the room before venturing to ask, working hard to hide her laughter, "Are you alright?"

"Fine," he answered, abruptly coming to a halt. He gave her a guilty look. "I should be asking you that. Your head, is it –"

"Nothing too damaging," Diana waved away his concern. "I was overwhelmed, and I was clumsy. It isn't your fault."

A silence descended upon the room once she was done. Richard was studiously avoiding her gaze, leaning against the fireplace and watching the flames crackle as if they were the most fascinating thing he had ever seen. Diana was staring at her hands, the shock of his news finally hitting her. To say that she was hurt would be an understatement, but willed herself not to cry. There would be time for that later, once Richard was no longer standing in her bedroom looking like he had something to say.

 _Something to say…_ Diana looked up at him, her eyes narrowing. Richard had a nervous habit of pacing, she remembered everyone often joking of it when they had first met. And yet, she had never seen him pace in her presence. He had only done it once. And then he had leaned against the fireplace of her mother's parlour and stared into the flames until she had finally asked him –

"Do you have something to say to me?" she whispered, the memory hitting her stronger than she had expected. How long had it been since she had thought of that day?

Too long. She blinked and shook her head slightly, hoping to clear it. When she glanced at Richard again, he was looking at her with a strange, intense expression that she had only seen him use once. He cleared his throat. "Yes, but I should wait until –"

"No!" _no,_ she would not let him out of her sight before they finally talked, not this time. Ignoring the warnings of the doctor to stay in bed, Diana threw the bedclothes off and made to stand up and go to him, but in a trice he was at her side, handing her a shawl he had picked up from somewhere with one hand and holding her arm steady with the other. He gave her a look of reproach and confusion when she had wrapped herself up in the shawl, and she indicated the desk in the corner. Shooting her a look that said he was not obeying happily, he nevertheless assisted her in the few steps towards the table and made to help her sit, but Diana merely leaned against the side, resting her hand against the wrought metal of the edge. It was a very handsome desk, transported to London from the set she had had in her bedroom from when she had been a girl and still living in her father's estate. Perhaps it made her feel younger. Perhaps she needed to stand for whatever he was about to say. She was not sure, but it _was_ an excellent support.

Clearly, Richard did not agree. "You are insane," he told her bluntly.

"I have been called worse today," muttered Diana. She gripped the desk harder. Despite her protests, her head did ache, and she desperately wanted to sleep. But there would be time for that later. "What do you want to say to me, Richard?"

Richard hesitated, and Diana felt the urge to hit him. How long would he dawdle _now?_ "I do not –"

"If we do not have this conversation now, we never will," she said sharply. It was true, and she hadn't realized _how_ true until she finally said it. His news had made _her_ throw caution to the wind, but she doubted it had had the same effect on him. She was Richard's look of astonishment was mirrored on her own face. She was surprising even herself today. "You're leaving," she added, forcing the words out of her mouth even though they were the last words she wanted to utter. "I have no idea how you came to make such a decision, and I have no idea what you plan to do now, so I would like to know exactly what it is that you want to say to me today. Please."

He blinked, and Diana groaned inwardly. She knew how this conversation would go now. He was stalling. "How do you know I want to say something to you?" asked Richard. He gestured to her head. "I could have simply come in to make sure you were alright."

"You spoke to the doctor before coming in, he told you I am far from alright. Also," she hesitated, but decided to go on. She had nothing left to lose. "You haven't acted this strange since the night you proposed to me."

There was a beat. A painful silence. And then…

"You remember?"

She turned her head, the fingers of her free hand running over the papers on her desk idly. Was she being coy? It was hard to be flirtatious or shy when one was wrapped in an old shawl in an old dress in one's bedroom, and Diana had never been very good at being coquettish. She was simply trying to avoid his eye, and she was succeeding. "Yes, I remember," she replied quietly. "You followed me home from the dinner at the Wolstein's –"

"You would not stop talking to their son," interrupted Richard, but his voice was as quiet as hers. He remembered too.

Diana resisted the urge to smile. "He was still at school, Richard."

"That did not make seeing you with him any more pleasant."

"He was interesting –"

"Oh, I'm _sure_ he was –"

"- because he had just gotten back from Paris."

Richard paused, and then cleared his throat. "Yes, well, you always did love Paris."

Diana smiled. "I still do."

"Have you been?"

Diana shook her head. "No, but you told me you'd take me, ten minutes after I had said yes to you."

"I meant it," his hand was covering hers now, pulling it away from the papers she was rustling around with no objective. His hand was large and warm, and their fingers entwined of their own accord, exactly as they had the first time he had held her hand.

But Diana could not look at him. She would not let herself. "It is all very well to reminiscence," she murmured. "But you have not answered my question."

His arm was around her waist now, and Diana found herself easing on her hold on the desk in favour of allowing the hand that had been previously gripping the metal to now rest against his chest. She could feel his breath against her ear when he spoke next. "I will answer yours when you answer mine."

Their joint hands brushed away a stray curl that had gotten loose from her now-messy bun, and Diana finally looked up and caught his gaze. Her breath caught in her throat. The amount of _love_ pouring out of his eyes, his entire body, the crinkle in his brow, the slight upturning of his lips… it was almost, _almost_ enough to make her forget everything that had happened.

But she had an excellent memory. She sighed. "You never asked a –"

"Will you marry me?"

Diana blinked. "I – what did you just say?"

"I asked you to marry me," said Richard. For someone who had taken days, weeks, _months_ to finally say what needed to be said, he looked perfectly calm. Diana had always resented that about him. He had an excellent poker face. She had perfected hers, but she could not keep it up in front of him, specially not _now._

"You don't mean that," she said faintly. She was dizzy. What had happened? He was supposed to say he cared for her, _perhaps_ say that he loved her, but _marriage?_ The man who had needed her to coerce men and women to stand aside so he could _see_ her in a romantic light again, who had all but said that their friendship was too precious for him to risk declaring himself in case she rejected him, and _this_ is what he did months before going off to war?

"I do mean it," was all he said. He still hadn't let her go. Oh, the inappropriateness of his actions was not lost on her, but what could she do now? She was dizzy, lightheaded, and even more prone to falling to the ground now than she had been a few seconds ago. Unconsciously, her hands tightened, fisting the front of his shirt. Richard raised an amused eyebrow. "And you might say yes before trying that, my love."

 _Love._

Diana blinked. "You did _not_ just ask me to marry you, Richard Fitzwilliam."

"Yes, I did."

"You cannot."

"I know how to speak, my love, so I believe I can."

"Stop calling me that!" she snapped.

Richard looked even more amused now. "I can call my fiancé whatever I choose, can I not?"

Diana's eyes narrowed. "You're teasing me."

"Only slightly. What do you have against me calling you that?"

 _Absolutely nothing._ "I haven't even said yes to you."

"Yes, you have."

"When did I –"

"You haven't told me to let you go yet," the smugness in his tone was almost tangible. "I would say that is a solid _yes_ to the question, wouldn't you?"

Diana blinked. His arm was still around her waist, one hand engulfing her own. Frowning, she tried to move away, but he merely tightened his hold, winking roguishly when she glared. "Let me go, Richard."

He shook his head, instead releasing her hand so that he could caress her cheek. Her face was warm, the same temperature as his hand, but it felt like the skin was burning now. It lasted only a few seconds, and then he was holding her hand again, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into her skin. Diana felt the loss immediately, and bit her lip to avoid voicing it. If he noticed, he did not comment on it. The mischievous glint in his eyes persisted, but his smile softened. "As confident as I am that you've said yes, I'd like to hear you say it before I let you go."

Diana sighed. "You know what I want to say."

He nodded. "I do. And you have objections."

She bit her lip. "You're going away, Richard."

"I know."

"I do not know for how long."

"Nor do I."

"Technically, I am still in mourning."

"Not forever."

"We cannot even get married before you leave without causing a scandal."

"I can wait."

"This would be my second marriage."

"And my first, but hopefully both of our lasts."

"My mother hates you."

"The feeling is quite mutual."

"People will talk."

"I will not listen."

"I cannot give you children," she blurted out finally. Judging by the look of shock on his face, he hadn't been expecting _that_ to be one of _her_ objections, she could tell. Diana squeezed her eyes shut, inhaling painfully when Richard did not respond promptly to her words. "I wish I could," her voice was breaking, but she carried on nevertheless. "Believe me, I wish I could, but I cannot, and that is not something that can ever change."

She hung her head, willing herself not to cry, but her lips were trembling, a tell-tale sign that tears were coming. She could not ever remembering voicing it so abruptly, so _firmly_. She had known for years now, and had heard it repeated to her again and again, but it had never hurt quite this much, to admit a failing to a man she loved, admit something that may cause him to change his mind about her. She felt his fingers rest under her chin and tilt her face up, and she opened her eyes reluctantly to meet his serious gaze. "You did not know you could not have children when I asked you the first time," he murmured. "You said yes because you loved me, did you not?"

Diana nodded wordlessly.

"Do you still love me?"

She nodded again, not trusting herself to speak.

"Then say yes," he smiled at her. "Had we been married and you found out you could not have children eight years ago, I would not have left you. Do you think I would do that, now, when I know what life is like without you in it?"

Diana smiled a watery smile. She untangled their fingers gently, and this time it was she who caressed his face. He rested his cheek against her hand, his eyes closing. The look of contentment on his face made her heart swell. "You may not always feel this way," she told him gently.

"I can promise you that I will," Richard sighed. His eyes lowered as he began to speak. "I spent the entire time the doctor was inside with you planning on what I would say, and I had a perfect speech ready by the time he left. Of course, nothing I planned to say has come out the way I wanted it to –" Diana could not help but giggle at that, and he smiled a little as well. "- but the part about feeling this way for you, being _in love_ with you, that part is very much true, and it would be present in any speech I could think of making to you. I should have started with that fact, I realize now. I know you, Diana," his smile was sad when he looked up at her again. "You love me, and you want to marry me, but you do not trust me. I ran away when I should have stayed and fought, and you are afraid I will do it again, are you not?"

He was absolutely right, but she did not want to say it to him quite like that. "Richard, I –"

"Going to fight in the war isn't running away," he interrupted her gently. "The decision to leave had nothing to do with you and everything to do with the way I felt about myself. No one will accept it, and I do not expect them to, but I need to _do_ something," he was speaking in earnest now, and Diana felt her heart break at his words, the passion in his eyes and voice as he begged her without words to listen to him. "I want to feel useful to someone outside my family, I want to do something that matters. I am not a rich man, I cannot afford to manage an estate and be a source of stability to so many people the way Darcy is, or be a peer of the realm like my father. This is all I can do and I want you, I _need_ you to understand it. I will not ask you to accept it," he added. "Lord only knows how much grief I've given you over the years, and I would understand completely if you called me a cad and kicked me out of your house now, but I owed you the truth."

"You never did lie to me," said Diana faintly. "I always liked that about you."

Richard smiled, but did not speak. She knew what he was doing. He was going to give her time to think, because he thought she was cold and indifferent to everything and everyone, that she needed to weigh the practicality of all matters before agreeing to anything. And why shouldn't he? She had never given him any indication that the old Diana, the impulsive, slightly rude and very loud girl he had fallen in love with, was still within her somewhere. If he ever saw her, it was because he was looking for her.

Diana bit her lip, mind made up. "Could you help me to the bed?" she asked quietly. "I think I need to sit down."

She did not watch for his expression. Wordlessly, he allowed her to lean against him as they trudged back towards the bed. Diana sat down on the edge, fighting down the urge to sigh as she gazed up at him, allowing a small, fond smile to finally grace her lips. "Can we try that again, now?"

Richard blinked. "Pardon?"

"Propose to me again," her smile was getting bigger, and she wanted to laugh at the look of utter confusion on his face. "I wasn't going to say yes while you had me pressed up against you, Richard Fitzwilliam. Ask me again."

He was shaking his head, a grin on his face. "You really are insane."

"I really have been called worse today, darling, I was not lying about that."

"I caught you off guard, and now you want to do the same to me," he folded his arms across his chest. " _Insane_."

"On second thoughts, I change my mind," flipping her hair over her shoulder, Diana turned her face away, making her expression thoughtful. "We should wait until my bandage is off, and there is a proper chaperone present, of course. Perhaps in my sitting-room, though the front parlour has the best-looking fireplace for such a conversation, I must say. And you will have your planned speech memorized, I want to hear it."

"Am I to understand this reworking of my wonderfully spontaneous proposal is because you want to have a better story to tell your friends?" he asked.

Diana huffed. "And just for that, they will all hear a story of you running after my carriage after a night spent dancing with other men, hollering of your undying love for me for the entirety of London to hear."

"Did that happen before or after I delivered my pre-planned speech by the fireplace in the front parlour?"

"What sounds better?"

"Before, certainly."

"Agreed. Well?" she raised an eyebrow at him. "I am waiting."

Richard smirked. "You must wait a while longer. I have some planning to do, my lady."

Diana narrowed her eyes. "Nobody likes a joke taken too far, Richard."

He shrugged. " _You_ were joking, my love, I happen to take each and every one of your suggestions very seriously."

"Richard!"

"Though, in the meantime," still in that aggravating, mock-serious tone, he reached into one of his pockets and drew something out, keeping his fist closed. "Perhaps you could keep something for me?"

"What is –" he did not let her finish, merely picked up her left hand and slid a ring onto her fourth finger.

Diana stared. "Is that –"

"Henry has our family ring, but Mamma wears my grandmother's engagement ring on a chain around her neck," he knelt down in front of her, smiling at the look of utter shock on her face. "I suppose this is my proof that I _did_ plan a speech," he teased. "I took it from mamma while we waited for the doctor to be finished. I thought you'd like it."

"You were right," she whispered. He had managed to shut her up quite effectively. The ring fit her beautifully, which in itself was hard to believe since her fingers were very thin, but it also looked perfect on her hand. It had a teardrop shaped diamond in the middle outlined with smaller, perfectly cut diamonds, offset with a gold band decorated with similar, small stones. Instead of it being made from a perfect, colourless diamond, however, it was the colour of champagne, glinting prettily in the soft light of the room. It was utterly simple, and completely understated, and she loved everything about it. She could not stop staring. "It's beautiful."

"So are you," he was holding her hand, his thumb brushing over her knuckles before he kissed the back of her hand softly. "I should go back down. I was supposed to call mamma as soon as the doctor left."

Diana raised an eyebrow. "It's been over a half hour, Richard. Are you really so dense?"

"What?" he frowned.

"My maid walked out on us while we were alone in my bedroom and no one from downstairs has come up to ask how I am yet," said Diana pointedly. Richard still looked lost. She rolled her eyes. "They left us alone on purpose. They know exactly what is going on. I daresay they're going to jump on you as soon as you enter the room."

Immediately, his face fell. "I changed my mind, I think I'm going to stay upstairs."

"No such thing. _You_ are going downstairs," she informed him. "And _I_ amgoing to sleep, and deal with anything that needs to be dealt with tomorrow. Or whenever I wake up."

"And, in your mind, there is a lot to be dealt with, I assume?"

"Very much so."

"Marriage _is_ for better or for worse, my love."

"Then I suppose I'm lucky we are not married yet," she winked, and Richard groaned, but moved towards the door willingly enough, muttering something about women and their wily tricks. Diana laughed.

* * *

 **So!**

 **My longest chapter yet (I think) and completely worth it. I'm not ashamed to say I have exactly seven different versions of the proposal written, each one ending and beginning with tears, and after all the heartache of the previous few chapters I really wanted to have a slightly happy chapter full of good news. I hope it lived up to expectations, I know everyone, absolutely EVERYONE has been looking forward to this finally happening. If there are any inconsistencies or typos I apologize, I reread it so often while writing it that I probably did not go over it with a fine tooth comb before posting.**

 **As far as the style is concerned, I hope you'll agree with me that making it kind of fun and having Richard do a turnaround was long overdue, we'll have more details on exactly _what_ he was thinking before this soon, but for now I hope this isn't too abrupt or out of character! It actually turned out quite well, I'm quite proud of it even though its a vastly important chapter and basically what the whole story has been coming towards, but feedback is always welcome.**

 **As for the reviews, many thanks to:**

 **lizzybet: Ah, I have a special something planned for her, not to worry!**

 **Deanna27: I hope this is more hopeful! And yes, Mina will be dealt with shortly.**

 **LovePP: He did make a mess, didn't he? I hope you see now that he's at least fixed some of it, remains to be seen what will happen now!**

 **Jasnfamily4: I understand the sympathy for Diana completely! We'll see what Richard does now!**

 **Mpf2741: Thank you so very much for your lovely review! I hope this chapter is worth the wait, and you enjoy reading it while on vacation! I'd love to hear your thoughts!**

 **Guest: Thank you for the kind words, I really appreciate them and all the encouragement. I'm so glad you're enjoying the story!**

 **khushishankar: I'm very happy I was able to clear a few things up for you in my reply to your review, I would never take offence because your frustration is totally understandable! This chapter was heavily influenced by you, if I'm being honest, I realized that the characters AND readers were now at a breaking point and I needed something good to happen to reassure everyone that there will be a HEA coming up soon for those two. I'm very glad you're so unvented in the story, though, so I hope you enjoy this chapter and Richard's long-awaited acquisition of sense!**

 **Also, if anyone is interested in seeing Diana's ring and other stuff from this story, I'll be setting up a Pintrest account! I love visualizing things I've described, so if you do too I'm sure you'll enjoy it, I'll be posting the link etc. by the next update. Let me know what you want to see next, I have a few rough ideas but I haven't actually written the next chapter yet, so I'd love some ideas. Much love xx**


	29. Chapter 29

"You seem oddly sober for someone who has finally plucked up the courage to get engaged," said Henry jovially, striding into the study and plonking himself down onto the sofa with a bright smile on his face.

Richard chuckled. "And you seem happier than I am."

"Unlikely," snorted Henry as he poured himself a drink. "You haven't stopped smiling since you told mamma not to expect the ring back, and that was at least four hours ago."

Richard merely grinned. They had returned for Diana's home a few minutes ago, and Henry had given his brother a few moments of peace in the study before joining him, clearly intent on celebrating with a drink. Humouring him, Richard swiped his brother's drink and raising an eyebrow when Henry narrowed his eyes. However, his brother did not argue, merely plucked a glass from the side table and poured himself another.

Richard gulped a mouthful of alcohol easily. "I cannot quit believe she said yes, if I'm being honest," he admitted.

Henry scoffed. "Neither can I, dear brother. I am of the opinion she should have said no to you at least a few times. Get you into the practice of _asking_ for what you want."

"Your support means the world to me."

"You would perish without it, I am sure."

They drank in a companionable silence for a while, before Henry spoke again. "You are sure of this, are you not?"

Richard did not need to ask what he meant. "I was sure last time as well."

"But Mina Harris is not a factor this time?"

"I do not think Diana cares anymore," Richard shrugged. "And I am perfectly alright with never having to see that woman again."

"You should discuss all of this with her. Wedding dates, her mother, where she will live while she is engaged, what you two will do once you're back…" Henry listed them off thoughtfully, and then frowned. "Do you plan to stay _engaged_ while you are in the continent?"

Richard shrugged. "I was led to believe that is what would be best for her. She is still in mourning, after all."

"Yes, but I recall a grandmother or the other of Herbert's remarrying a mere eight months after her husband died," Henry tapped the table impatiently. "I'm sure I could recall exactly who. The Herberts only mourn fully for eight months anyway, they drop dead like flies after all. I'm sure that is why they started the rule in the first place."

Richard winced. "Really, Henry?"

His brother shrugged. "He was a good man, but forgive me for being happy that my little brother can finally have his happy ending. So, what have you decided?"

"About what, exactly?" asked Richard, smiling despite himself.

"About the wedding, of course. Diana will have probably said to wait until you're back, but I know you," Henry finished his drink and reached for the bottle again. "You would take her to Gretna Green tonight if you thought there was a chance in hell she'd agree to it."

"She would never agree, and I do not want to marry her in Scotland," Richard rolled his eyes. "I will come back after six months and take the position in the London office that Father discussed with me before, and that will be the end of that. I will stay for her," he added. "Had she not come into my life at all, I would still be going to war, I hope you know that, Henry."

Henry sighed. "Unfortunately, I do. I told you, Richard, your reasons do not need to make sense to the world as long as they make sense to you."

"Horrible advice for a madman."

"Thankfully, you are not one. So, a wedding after you return," Henry nodded thoughtfully. "Mamma will like that, she always did want a summer wedding in the family. And have you thought about living arrangements? You _are_ welcome to stay with us, of course."

"If I take the London position, we will have to stay in town," reminded Richard.

Henry clicked his tongue. "London does not suit Diana."

"I have not discussed it with her yet. There are other options, should she desire it."

"Of course. She may find London invigorating after all," Henry paused, and both brothers snorted at the idea of Diana Herbert finding London _invigorating_. "Alright, that is something that should definitely be considered," Henry waved a hand. :Have you thought about what to do before you leave?"

Richard smiled. "I am glad you asked. I was going to ask her to spend Christmas with us."

Henry grinned. "Smart fellow. Mamma would love that. We leave in a fortnight, and we'll be going to Pemberley as well. She will enjoy it immensely, and you will get to see her every day. Except," he frowned. "That mother of hers will come along as well, won't she?"

Richard sighed. "Whatever she may be, she _is_ her mother. I cannot disrespect her."

"You said you hated the mother _while proposing_ to the daughter!"

Richard resisted the urge to smile, but ended up joining in his brother's laughter anyway. "She said her mother hated me, I was merely returning the favour," he insisted, still chortling.

"My brother, the romantic," Henry shook his head. "Well, that is another problem solved, then. I cannot imagine that she would give up the chance to be close to you before she leaves. I take it you plan to keep the engagement a secret?"

Richard hesitated. "She gave me that impression," he admitted. "I would not be averse to whatever decision she makes. I just want to marry her."

Henry finished his drink and sighed. "Gretna Green, old boy."

Richard rolled his eyes.

 **!**

" _Engaged_?"

"Yes, mother."

"And you are only _telling_ me this, correct? Not ask–"

"No, mother. I do not need your permission, we both know this."

A heavy silence descended on the room at her words, and Diana fought the urge to cough to dispel the tension. Mina had walked into her room the morning after possibly the best day of her life to demand an explanation for why her maid was packing her a trunk, and Diana had calmly asked her to sit down before explaining Richard's proposal to her. However, she still had not told her why her possessions were being packed.

Finally, Mina spoke. "I wish you joy," she said stiffly. "He is a good man. But that does not explain why I am being shipped off without my knowledge."

Diana blinked, but did not allow her mother to see how confusing she felt her words to be. She merely inclined her head slightly. "Thank you. And as for your trunk," she cleared her throat softly. "You will be going to spend a week at Charles' estate, before the new earl arrives to claim his seat by Christmas. You will pack all my belongings and transfer them to our home in Devon, where you will aid Cousin Rupert in the management of the estate until such a time as I see fit. By then, I will have decided to either sell our house, or return and refurbish it for myself."

Mina stared at her, her mouth hanging open slightly in shock. Diana did not flinch. In fact, she avoided her mother's eye altogether, instead reaching for the cup of herbal tea Sarah was forcing her to drink thrice every day until her strength returned. She had insisted on getting up and being dressed this morning, but her maid had refused to allow her to venture down the stairs, instead fitting up her small bedroom with a roaring fire and a few armchairs so she could entertain people from the comfort of her own room. In a way, she was glad of it now. She felt more secure, in a room filled with things that were inherently her own, rather than the elaborate rooms downstairs her mother had helped to design and decorate.

"You are sending me away," said Mina hoarsely. With every word, Diana could tell she was losing the weak grip she had on her temper. "You insolent, _ungrateful_ child, how _dare_ you!"

"I never said anything about sending you away, mother," replied Diana evenly. Her left hand clenched into a fist, her engagement ring digging into her palm and offering her a small boost of courage. "I am merely sending you to be my representative. I would feel awkward going back to the home I shared with my ex-husband as a newly-engaged woman, and I have not been to Devon for many years. You have always dealt with Cousin Rupert directly, I thought it was best that you go. If you would prefer me to send a steward," Diana shrugged, sipping her tea and replacing the cup in its saucer before offering her mother an innocent smile. "Of course, that can be arranged as well. It is just that I plan to spend Christmas with the Fitzwilliams, who will be travelling to Pemberley on and off, and I know travelling does not agree with you."

"Christmas with the Fitzwilliams?" demanded Mina. "When did you come to _that_ decision?"

"This morning," lied Diana easily. "I received a letter from Richard. He will be going away soon, and I do not wish to be separated from him until absolutely necessary. Lady Fitzwilliam was most delighted at his suggestion that I stay with them for a few weeks."

"And I suppose Richard also had nothing to do with your decision to send me away either," sneered Mina.

Diana did not correct her again. "The decision is entirely my own. I need someone with my best interests at heart to oversee my belongings and my finances. We have never seen eye to eye," she admitted. "But I am aware that you do things with the right intentions, and for that I can trust no one but you."

Mina sniffed. "Mothers are used to their children offering no gratitude," she said pompously, but Diana knew her words had done the trick. "I will go, of course. No one else can be trusted with such a delicate matter."

"Of course."

Mina left soon after, barking orders at servants to prepare her things – she had a few visits to make before she could leave within the week. Sarah slipped in once she left and exchanged a look with Diana.

"Is it done?" asked her maid hesitantly.

Diana let out a sigh of relief. "Thank heaven, it is. Hand me a paper and some ink, Sarah."

Sarah complied. "Is that for the Colonel?" she asked curiously, watching Diana scribble a quick note and seal it untidily in her hurry.

"Major General," corrected Diana. Sarah looked surprised, but she did not have time to explain. She shoved the paper into her hands. "Send it with John to Fitzwilliam House now, hopefully Lady Fitzwilliam will accept my request to spend Christmas with them before my mother finds out I lied to her about receiving an invitation."

Sarah raised her eyebrows. "But you told me you would ask the Major General –"

"Yes, I expected him to visit before noon so I _could_ ask him!" said Diana in exasperation. "He only sent a letter, so I made up a story. It's alright, I doubt they'll mind, just try to make sure that letter gets sent before mother goes to see Lady Fitzwilliam."

Sarah nodded, tucking the letter into a dress pocket and hurrying out of the room. Diana glanced at the clock on the mantle, noting that she had a few more hours until the other visitors of the day would come crawling in. That gave her plenty of time to contemplate the second order of business. Biting her lip, she surveyed her ring carefully.

If it would be possible to never take it off, she would happily wear it forever. Not only had she developed an overnight habit of fiddling with it when nervous – which, admittedly, she had been since morning – she also loved the way it looked on her hand, as if it had been made for her. Of course, she doubted she could get too used to it. Technically, her one year of mourning was not over, and even though there was nothing expressively wrong with getting engaged or married before the year was up, she knew it would be in bad taste, especially considering the recent attention she had garnered just by being seen in Richard's presence. To be seen on his arm for the rest of the year would be folly. However, his going away so close to the beginning of the season would work out in their favour, since they would spend virtually half of the social year apart, and a wedding soon after his return would be entirely acceptable.

And yet – Diana bit her lip, rubbing the champagne coloured diamond with her thumb. She did not _want_ to wait. The very idea of waiting for perhaps well up to another year to be his wife was enough to dampen her spirits. She wanted to marry him, and she wanted to marry him _now._ Nothing would make her happier, and she knew he would have no objections to it either. If his proposal had been anything to go by, he had been willing to put up with a long engagement simply because _she_ felt like they should.

She glanced at his letter, a quick message he had sent in the early hours of the morning while she had still been asleep, which lay on the table at her side. It was short and sweet, but it made her smile.

 _My love,_

 _I assume you are already furious that I have called you that, but do you recall that your only objection was that we were not yet engaged when I said it the first time? Now that you have made me the happiest of men, I plan to spend ample time thinking of new names by which to call you, an exercise I reserve for the rare moments I am not thinking of you._

 _I have some urgent business to attend to today, but rest assured I will be with you tomorrow, possibly at an incredibly early and rude hour that will make your mamma want to throw me out of the house. My family will visit you today without me, and will bring you all my love as I have instructed them to pass on to you. Rest assured, I have more to give._

 _I remain, my darling,_

 _Your humble servant,_

 _RICHARD FITZWILLIAM_

It was odd, she mused as she reached for her tea again. So very odd, how one could go from scheming to ensnare a man one day, to engaged to the very same man and receiving love letters from him the next. While she refused to call anything she had done as _ensnaring_ , from introducing Rose to her beau to the embarrassment of Caroline Bingley, she knew there were few other words for it. Now that she had succeeded, however… what was she supposed to do?

"You look very deep in thought," said a cheerful voice from the doorway. Diana jumped and glanced up, smiling when she saw Emily standing in the doorway with a large smile on her face. She got up from her chair just in time to catch the other woman in a tight hug.

Diana giggled. "You seem happy to see me," she teased.

Emily let her go and rolled her eyes. "Enough chatter. The ring?" she raised an eyebrow and held out her hand expectantly. Diana smiled and gave Emily her left hand, allowing her to squeal over it appropriately. Diana laughed again. "He gave you his grandmother's ring!" Emily clapped her hands together happily. "Oh, how _wonderful!_ She was Richard's favourite, you know, and he loved seeing his mother wearing her ring. Oh, how wonderful!"

"Yes, darling, you've mentioned how wonderful it is," said Diana in amusement. She gestured for Emily to sit and sank down into her own chair gratefully. A slight head injury had done nothing good for her energy level. She touched the bandage carefully, ensuring it was still in place. "I am so glad you are happy, Emily."

"You have not seen mamma yet! She is out shopping at the moment, no doubt buying something for her new favourite daughter-in-law," Emily winked, and Diana blushed. "I am surprised she managed to keep it a secret from the whole of London! She was practically floating by the time we got home, Father teased that he did not know who was more excited at your answer, her or Richard himself."

Diana smiled fondly. "I am happy she is pleased."

"Pleased is an understatement," Emily reached over and squeezed Diana's hand, her smile full of genuine warmth and affection. "We are all _so_ much more than pleased, my dear, you have no idea."

Diana sighed, a contented smile taking over her face. "You don't know how happy I am, Emily."

"I can imagine," she tried to smile back, but faltered and averted her eyes. "It just pains me that it took something like this for him to finally ask you."

Diana's voice caught in her throat at Emily's words. She had thought about him leaving, certainly, had even talked to her mother about it, but to talk about it with someone who actually cared… she gulped. "I haven't let myself fully think about that since yesterday afternoon, I'm afraid."

Emily looked guilty. "And you shouldn't think about it, dear, I am so sorry I brought it up. The doctor said not to trouble you."

Diana waved away her concern. "It's alright. I should have spoken to him about it then and there, but I – I did not want to," she shrugged helplessly. "I did not expect him to even ask me to marry him. I thought he would just… well," she trailed off lamely. "I did not expect it."

"You thought he would tell you he loved you just before leaving you," said Emily, her tone understanding. "Of course you didn't expect him to propose. None of us did. He surprised us all yesterday."

Diana nodded, her thumb rubbing against the stone of her ring again. She clicked her tongue and glanced at the clock. "Where did you say he was today?"

"I didn't say," Emily smirked. Diana nodded, her expression casual, but her cheeks had turned pink. Emily laughed. "But since you asked _so_ nicely," she winked teasingly, causing Diana to blush harder. "He went to see Corporal Hastings at the offices of the militia, Lieutenant General Crooke said there was some work he could do while he was still in the country and he wanted to see when he could start."

Diana nodded, reaching for her tea again and averting her eyes. She did not want to think about such things. Richard, _her_ Richard, her fiancé, would be leaving for the continent before they could even be married, and that was enough to cause a weight to settle in her stomach. Emily seemed to sense it, however, because she immediately changed the subject.

"Have you planned on what is to be done?" she asked. "I saw trunks taken out of the attic as I came upstairs."

"Oh, yes," Diana blinked and forced herself out of her thoughts. "My mother is going away, for a little while."

Emily looked surprised, so Diana quickly told her of her plan, leaving out Mina's reaction to the news. Emily's expression said that she did not believe Diana when she said her mother had agreed without argument, but she wisely did not push. Instead, she smiled. "Then I suppose you are free to spend Christmas with us?"

Diana blinked. "I –"

"Richard mentioned to Henry last night that he was going to ask you today, and Henry told me just this morning. That is why you sent her away, is it not?" asked Emily knowingly. "You want to spend time with Richard away from London, and our estate is the perfect opportunity. Plus, we will be spending a week at Pemberley, and I know Elizabeth was going to invite you to their Christmas Ball. This way, you can attend with us."

Diana was silent for a few moments. "I often forget that you are almost as good at this as I am," she said finally.

Emily picked up the cup of tea a footman had brought for her and winked at Diana over the rim of the cup. "Good at what, dear?"

"Scheming."

Emily laughed.

* * *

 **Give me good reviews and I will give you fast updates! I have to say, the response for last chapter was incredible. I knew everyone had been looking forward to the proposal scene since forever, but _wow._ I saw many new names, and it honestly made me so happy that I just had to get a chapter out for you guys and finally give so many of you what you've been waiting for... Mina's departure! Now, while I will say that this is not the last we will see of her, I will also say that, as far as _this_ story is concerned, she's gone.**

 **Yes, for those of you who were curious, THERE WILL BE A SEQUEL. I'm super excited to say that I've got the rough notes for that all worked up, but it requires a bit more research than an extensive knowledge of P &P (I will leave you all to guess why). And yes, I know there was no R/D action in this chapter, but look how far patience has gotten you, guys! I promise, it will be worth it.**

 **Anyway, enough of my ramblings. On to review replies! Many thanks to:**

 **Axelle: Glad to have you on board, and thank you for your kind words, they mean so much to me! I'm glad you're enjoying the story and hope to read more of your comments soon!**

 **LovePP: There we go! So happy it lived up to expectations! Hope I can keep the chapters as interesting as you want them to be from now on!**

 **Jansfamily4: The link to the ring will be up on my profile once this is updated, be sure to have a look!**

 **suddenlysingle: Glad you enjoyed it!**

 **NYT: The page's link is on my profile! And yes, hahaha, I wish I could have thrown that line into the chapter itself somewhere!**

 **Deanna27: The expulsion of Mina was specifically for you, I hope you enjoyed it! Its nothing as evil as she deserves, but there's more to come, I promise!**

 **JN: So glad you liked the chapter, and hope you approve of the kind way I've exiled Mina, but she will be back, I love writing her as my main villain!**

 **Kss: LOL I WAS WONDERING WHEN SOMEONE WOULD BRING THAT UP! Well, you know me, I like to keep the readers waiting and wanting!**

 **thpeaky: So happy you approve! And yes, that would be just like Mina, wouldn't it? But she's out now, at least for a while!**

 **Guest: Have you really? Aww, I'm so happy you enjoyed it that much! I really wanted it to be the highlight of the story :) And yes, I was quite satisfied with their interaction this chapter, for once it translated onto paper exactly how I always picture it in my head!**

 **SecretKeeper33: Thank you very much for your wonderful review! So glad you enjoyed their conversation, its always my favourite thing to write!**

 **Contrari Mari: You, you blessed soul! THANK YOU for your wonderful, kind words, I am beyond grateful that you like this story so much to leave such a lovely review for me to read! If I could post your review here for everyone to see and laugh hysterically at your visuals, I totally would! As it is, I'm happy to keep it saved in my email inbox and reread it every time I need a pick-me-up or if I'm suffering from writer's block (so if you see a one-shot of Mina being trampled to death by a loose circus elephant in Hyde Park, you only have yourself to blame). Once again, THANK YOU! XX**

 **Guest: Thank you!**

 **Also, the pinterest account is up, guys! The link is on my profile, but in case you can't access it from there it is basically the website ( pinterest dot com) with a / followed by my username, ladysnowff. You can follow it if you like, I will be updating it regularly depending on if I find something interesting that connects to the story, or else I will mention in one of these insanely long ANs if anything's been added to it. Until next time! Much love xx**


	30. Chapter 30

"Hand me the scissors, dear."

Sarah yawned widely, handing over the small instrument as she sighed sleepily. Diana gave her an amused look as she snipped off the withered leaves expertly. Sarah blushed. "Sorry, mum. Its early."

"I couldn't sleep, and you volunteered to help," reminded Diana.

"I caught you sneaking biscuits from the oven at five o' clock in the morning," corrected Sarah, hiding her yawn behind her hand. "I did not volunteer for anything except to get you a plate."

Diana chuckled. "Touché. You should go inside anyway," she nodded towards the French doors, which were open to allow a glimpse into her sitting-room. "John wanted to remove the chairs from my bedroom this morning, I won't be needing them in there anymore."

"You ought to keep them for a few more days, at least."

"The doctor came last night and said I was perfectly able to roam about the house as long as you keep giving me that awful tea," Diana rolled her eyes. "Go, make me another cup if it will ease your mind. I am almost done here," she added, gesturing to the plant she was seated in front of. "An hour at most and you can lock me up inside again."

Sarah nodded reluctantly and made her way back into the house, returning almost immediately with a steaming cup of tea. Giving Diana a pointed look, she set it down on the garden table in the corner and bobbed a curtsey, disappearing into the house and shutting the veranda doors behind her with a soft click.

Diana continued to prune the leafy plants serenely, a small smile on her face. She had always loved gardening, but ever since moving to London she had left the small yard of the townhouse entirely at the mercy of the gardener, an old man with a green thumb but decided deafness in one ear, which meant the garden looked nothing like how Diana wanted it to. She did not have the heart to tell him to leave, however, and often snuck into the garden before he arrived and fiddled with the plants and flowers until she was satisfied.

When she was done, she sighed and stood up, dusting the leaves and grass from her dress and reaching up to loosen the tight bun Sarah had pulled her hair into. She had just managed to free it from the comb her maid had stuck into her hair when she felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist from behind, and a stubbly cheek press against her own. Diana froze for a fraction of a second, before letting out a sigh of relief when she felt Richard's hand grab her left one, his thumb brushing against her ring through the material of her gloves.

"You scared me," she scolded, turning around in his arms and scowling. "I could have screamed."

"I would have had to kiss you to shut you up, then," said Richard cheekily. Diana blushed and hit his chest half-heartedly, but smiled nevertheless. "You look tired," added Richard, no longer teasing. His free hand brushed the dark circles under her eyes. "Is your head better?"

"It's fine," assured Diana. Richard ignored her and tilted her face to the side with his fingers, examining the almost-healed cut on her temple. Diana rolled her eyes. "Stop it, Richard."

He frowned. "You took the bandage off."

"The doctor visited last night and did it himself," said Diana. She untangled herself from his arms and settled for holding his hand, tugging him towards the small table and three chairs in a corner of the garden. "It is rather early for a visit, isn't it?"

"Perhaps," said Richard, smiling. "I did not think you would be awake."

"You wrote to me yesterday to say that you would come at a rude time, I assumed you meant the morning," reminded Diana. She sat down and gestured for him to do the same. She continued speaking as she removed her bonnet and gloves. "Though I did expect you to show up for dinner regardless."

"Emily told me as much," said Richard. He picked up her now bare hand and examined the ring critically. "At least it fits," he said, grinning up at her. "Mamma was most pleased."

"Yes, so I have heard," Diana laughed. " _My_ mamma, on the other hand –"

"Henry told me she is going away, but neglected to mention the details," frowned Richard. "I did not think she would be that upset."

"She's not," snorted Diana. "Not for the reason you think, anyway."

By the time Diana had informed him of the real reason Mina was leaving, Richard was stunned. He leaned back in his chair and shook his head slowly. "I am marrying an evil genius."

"I resent that!"

"Your ability to fool people truly astounds me."

"I would not say _fool_ ," said Diana. She sipped her tea, making a face at the taste and causing Richard to laugh. "Trick, perhaps. I tell people what they want to hear as long as they do what I want. It's quite simple."

"The generals up in the continent could do with a strategist like you."

Diana rolled her eyes and popped a biscuit into her mouth to rid herself of the awful taste. She could not remember it tasting _that_ bad. "You have something in your hand," she noted once she was done chewing.

"I do," nodded Richard. He had removed a sheaf of papers from the inner pocket of his coat, and hesitated before resting them on the table between them. "These are for you."

"I sincerely hope you have not written down that speech I told you to memorize," teased Diana as she picked up the loose paper at the top and scanned its contents idly. "That really would – what is this?" she snapped suddenly, looking at him in anger.

"It is a will."

"Yes, I am aware of that," she dropped it back onto the table as if it contained something offensive. "What exactly do you think you are doing?"

"Being sensible," said Richard evenly. His calm demeanour was annoying. "I am going to fight in a war, Diana, I am not going on a holiday. These are necessary precautions –"

"– that I do not need to see or know of," she interrupted him firmly. She pushed the papers back towards him. "I refuse to discuss anything related to these papers."

"You are being unreasonable," said Richard. He squeezed her hand, coaxing her to meet his eyes again. "I know it is upsetting, my love, but you need to know these things. I promise, this will be the last time we discuss it, but we must discuss it at least once. Can you bear it for a few minutes?" Diana bit her lip, but nodded wordlessly. She was partly horrified and, though loathe to admit it, partly curious as well. Upper-class men often had their affairs together from an early age, but she had never heard of younger sons doing the same. Richard patted her hand and let go, reaching for the papers and separating the sheaves quickly. "That one is my will," he indicated the smallest pile. "My father has a copy, as do the family solicitors. I wanted you to take one in case any problems should arise. I would like you to read it once in front of me," he added earnestly. "Just to reassure me. But if you do not want to, I will understand."

"I most certainly do not want to," she said firmly. She turned the papers over on the table, but did not try to push them towards him again. "And I will not need to."

Richard was silent, observing her quietly for a few seconds. "I have upset you," he said finally.

"Yes, well, it _is_ rather upsetting to talk about wills and deaths and that sort of thing a day after one gets engaged," she snapped, picking up her cup of tea with shaking hands and ignoring the disgusting taste now. She already had an awful taste in her mouth just from contemplating the idea of having to look at that will within the next few months.

"Diana, I am trying to do the right thing."

"I trust your father explicitly," she stated. "If anything needs to be done, which it will _not,_ I know he will make sure I am looked after."

"There is no one I trust with your future except yourself, you know that."

"What does that mean?"

Richard sighed. "You are more capable of looking after yourself than any woman I have ever met. This paper does nothing except enable you to do so. Just read it. Please."

Diana held his gaze for a long moment, before slumping in defeat. She was scared and horrified, but she was just now realizing that he was not much better. The anxiety radiating off of him reassured her somewhat. At least he was as worried as she was. Picking up the papers, she reluctantly read through it, trying to be as thorough and quick as she could.

When she was done, however, her hands were shaking. "This is too much," she whispered, her eyes still glued to the paper. "Where did you get all of this money from?"

"It is mine. An inheritance from my grandmother, a stipend from my father, my salary from the army, that sort of thing," Richard shrugged. "I never spent any of it, I have always lived with my parents or Darcy when I am in the country. You will recall that it was always my intention to marry rich and live off the money of my wife," his honesty was brutal, his tone so matter-of-fact that Diana winced. He caught himself, and offered her an apologetic smile. "I set aside all that money for any future children, so that they would not have to suffer the fate of the offspring of a poor, second son. Since that is no longer a cause for concern, it only makes sense that I leave it all to you, should anything happen."

She wanted to protest. The amount he was speaking of was almost ten thousand pounds, and coupled with her current income, it was too much for her. But her voice caught in her throat, only allowing her to croak out a strangled, " _What?"_

"There is no point arguing over this, because it is done," he shrugged. "Hopefully, we will not have to contact the solicitors for many years. This one, now," he indicated the other pile of official-looking documents. "They are letters, authorising you to use any finances under my name as you see fit. If we were married by the time I left, it would be easier for you to do so, but until then you will need to run any requests by my father. Since we both know he would happily give you the key to our family vault if you asked for it, that shouldn't be a problem," he snorted, and Diana managed a watery smile. "And this," he indicated the last pile, which was actually a thick envelope. "This belongs to you."

Diana hesitated. "If this is going to make me cry, Richard, I strongly advise you to rethink what you're doing."

"It's nothing bad," he assured her. When she still looked reluctant, he rolled his eyes and opened it himself, shaking it until two objects fell out. "They really _are_ yours, you ridiculous girl."

Diana's eyes widened. Her father's silver pocket-watch, the watch she had carried hidden in the pockets of her skirts for months when he had first died was sitting in front of her, gleaming as good as new. Next to it was a worn out miniature which she recognized immediately. "You kept them," she whispered. "I cannot believe you actually kept them."

"Of course I did," said Richard quietly. "I had nothing else to remember you by."

"You could have had me," murmured Diana, picking up the watch and running her fingers over the etching on the top slowly. She hadn't realized how much she had missed her father's possession until it was in her hands once again. Despite the circumstances surrounding his death, despite the fact that her mother rarely mentioned him, her heart ached a little every time she thought of him. It had been many years since she had felt love as unconditional as the love he had bestowed upon her.

And yet… she looked up at Richard, just in time to see him school his expression. Her words had cut him deeply. She firmly believed he needed to be taught a lesson regarding his poor decision-making skills, something Henry had been quick to point out when she had met him last night, but now was not the time. Considering everything he was willing to give her, without asking for anything he did not already have, Diana decided to refrain from harsh statements. At least, for the time being.

Richard still did not speak, so Diana put the watch back onto the table carefully and stood, moving around the table to stand before him, offering him her hand. He took it and stood as well. His right hand found her left, once again touching the ring. He squeezed her hand, harder than necessary, his eyes locked with hers. Diana bit her lip, using her free hand to smooth the wrinkles from his forehead. He rolled his eyes at her gesture. She smiled and, after only a second's hesitation and another second that allowed her to take a deep breath, she bravely reached up and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek.

Richard froze. Diana came back to her original height and blushed, promptly hiding her face in his chest. She had been brash and loud as a child, and as a woman she was cold and proud, but she had _never_ been so brazen with a man, not even someone she was due to marry within a year. Charles had never been one to take liberties, and her initial engagement with Richard had barely lasted two days. She knew women and men who were engaged did things far more scandalous than what she had just done, and the way she was pressed up against him now certainly could cause one to believe she was incredibly forward, but she was not. She could not grasp _why_ she had exactly done what she had done, only that his expression of heartbreak had hurt her and she was desperate to offer him some form of comfort. Clearly, her brain had come up with only one solution.

However, it seemed to work. Diana could feel Richard's chest vibrate with quiet laughter under her cheek as he wound his arms around her waist, holding her close in a gentle embrace that made a flight of butterflies erupt in her stomach and her knees go weak. She felt him kiss her hair. "An appropriate thanks for the return of your belongings, my love," he whispered into her ear, amusement still in his voice. "Though not one that was expected."

"It wasn't a thank you," muttered Diana, still refusing to look up.

"Then what was it?" he adjusted his grip so he could wrap one of her loose curls around his finger. She could feel him tug at the lock of hair gently, trying to tease her into looking at him, but she still would not.

She shrugged, acting coy. "I was trying to seduce you into staying with me, of course."

He laughed loudly at that, letting go of her hair and instead pulling back so she had no choice but to look up at him. "I believe you would be an excellent seductress should you put your mind to it, dearest," he told her, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "However, I fear you are in need of more practice. Or instruction." Had he just _winked_ at her?

"And I suppose you would like to volunteer your services?" she demanded, her face colouring.

"That would hardly be appropriate," his face was closer than it had been a second ago, Diana was sure of it. She could see the colour of his eyes clearly for the first time: a warm brown, with flecks of hazel, a strange contrast to her own blue orbs. The slight stubble on his cheeks, his perfectly straight nose, his forehead clear of lines, and his lips…

She blinked in surprise when he suddenly froze and took a step back, letting go of her arm – when had he taken her arm? – to glance back towards the house. Diana shook her head to clear it and peered over her shoulder, registering the quick tapping against the glass doors. The curtains were drawn, but she knew who it was.

"Sarah," she answered his unspoken question when he turned to face her, a look of concern on his face. "She means the servants are coming down. Or perhaps my mother is. I used to rap on the windows of the kitchens three times when mother would be coming downstairs so the maids could put away their books. She did not approve of how they spend their free time."

"I see," said Richard. Diana busied herself with picking up her things, and as she made to go into the house he caught her arm, forcing her to stop. "Have I upset you?" he asked gently. Diana did not look at him. His free hand touched her cheek. "I did not mean to cause offense."

Diana sighed and shook her head, putting her hand over his and smiling at him. "You did not. If you had come fifteen minutes earlier this morning, perhaps Sarah would not have had to interrupt us," she teased, stepping back and allowing him to take some of her things from her arms so she was free to accept his arm.

"That is a fact I will keep in mind when I come to call tomorrow," smiled Richard. He gestured for her to precede him into the parlour. "Would you say five o' clock is a reasonable time, my lady?"

"You want to come for tea?" she asked in confusion.

"Who said anything about tea? I plan to come in the morning," Richard raised his eyebrows and turned back to close the door, throwing Sarah a quick smile. She hovered in a corner inconspicuously, playing the role of chaperone while pretending to rearrange the trinkets in the room.

Diana blushed, throwing him a look that told him to keep his mouth shut. He chuckled and kissed her hand, ignoring the pointed look she threw in the direction of her maid and reached forward to tuck a loose curl behind her ear. She smiled, despite herself. "Charmer."

"Only for you, my beloved."

Diana giggled. "You _were_ serious about thinking of new names to call me, weren't you?"

"Of course," Richard shrugged. "Now that I do not have a picture of you to stare at all day, I must occupy my time otherwise."

"I am sure it is an excellent pastime," Diana rolled her eyes.

"Any time spent thinking of you is an excellent pastime."

"Richard, I already said yes to marrying you. You can stop with the flattery now."

" _What?"_

Diana jumped, her eyes flickering to the door in confusion. She winced when she realized who had heard her conversation. "Hello, Rose."

* * *

 **Hello, all! Sorry for the delay, in all honesty I just finished this chapter and it was inspired by the overwhelming demand for them to kiss (really, for Regency readers you all are so scandalous!) so I decided to tease you all a bit. Apologies for the cliffie, its not my usual style but I just could not for the life of me get up the energy to write, and I figured this was an interesting twist to enable them to get to what I actually want them to get to so I can knock out a few more action-packed chapters. This chapter hasn't gone through my usual 3 day editing process, so forgive the mistakes, if any!**

 **As far as the updating schedule is concerned, I do apologize because I wanted to keep my four or five day gap going but I've been having some personal issues, and my older brother is coming to visit next week so I'll be completely caught up with that, added to the fact I go back to uni soon and my life is pretty much all over the place right now. I will try to write another chapter tomorrow and hopefully update after four days, so let me know what you think so far.**

 **On to review replies. Many thanks to:**

 **thpeaky: So happy you like everything that's going on so far! (Also check your PM for the Pinterest link ;))**

 **Deanna27: Hope you enjoyed the interactions. And yes, I doubt anyone is sorry to see Mina go!**

 **lizzybet: Yes, I highly doubt he would be able to keep quiet should Mina show her true colours, and that would be too messy for my style!**

 **kaaw: So glad you liked it!**

 **Motherof8: Fingers crossed ;)**

 **LovePP: Glad you liked it, sorry for the long wait. Hope this one makes up for it!**

 **tarlily: Lets hope!**

 **Contrari Mari: Oh I do so love your reviews, the analogies are so on point. I imagine throwing Mina into Versailles and leaving her there until present day, its not one of my stronger moments but she is just so frustrating! So happy you take out the time to leave me such wonderful comments on my story, I will keep Richard incredible and throw in some Darcy soon to keep the love alive! Reviews like yours make me glad I'm going to keep up with this story and write a few sequels, thank you again! xx**

 **suddenlysingle: Hope this chapter keeps you smiling, and anticipating what happens next!**

 **JN: I never want to stop writing! Hence the need for sequels. MANY sequels!**

 **Christinebj: thank you so much for your kind words, hope you enjoy this chapter!**

 **Jansfamily4: Oh, you ARE a smart one! That's all I'll say ;)**

 **MissThang22700: Oh you're a clever one! I can neither confirm nor deny any of your suspicions, but I _will_ say this - you are an excellent psychic. Thanks for reading!**

 **Mpf2741: Thank you for the kind words, glad you're finding time to keep up with the story! I'll try to keep it as interesting as I can, but I won't be revealing anything quite yet! Still, thank you for the review.**

 **That's all for today, folks. Let me know what you thought. Until next time! Much love xx**


	31. Chapter 31

"Diana Herbert, _how_ could you not tell me? You will be the envy of every woman of the _ton_ and you know it! Oh, you sly, sly creature!"

Diana winced, but allowed Rose to continue ranting about how she should have been the first to know, and how she was incredibly sly for keeping it a secret, how she absolutely _had_ to be in the wedding party, and so on. It was fifteen minutes before she was able to get a word in. Richard had left soon after Rose had stormed in, throwing her an apologetic look but clearly unwilling to handle her friend.

"He proposed to me yesterday, Rose. I barely had time to tell anyone," said Diana, her tone placating. "And he is going away, for a very long time. It does not make sense to waste what little time we have left together planning an extravagant wedding."

"When will the banns be read?" demanded Rose. "I expect you to come to church together tomorrow, will it be then?"

Diana kept her face neutral, but inside she was panicking. She knew Richard's thoughts on the matter quite well: he did not care who knew or when people found out, he would marry her tomorrow by special license if she was willing. Diana had been insistent on keeping it a secret, more so because she knew people would talk should they find out she had entered into an engagement without completing her year of mourning, despite the fact that it was not unheard of to marry before. Nevertheless, a part of her wanted to keep the façade she had adopted whilst living in London. However, seeing the gleam in Rose's eye, she knew she would have to think quickly. Rose was a good girl, but she had absolutely no idea how to keep a secret.

"Perhaps next week," said Diana carefully. "I will be travelling by then, so I may be able to avoid the visitors and the questions. You know how people can get."

Rose nodded sympathetically. "Yes, of course. You poor dear, I did not even think of how this would go over with your acquaintances. And your mamma was intent on a better match, I know, but you two make such a handsome couple, and there is no shortage of money. And he is very much in love with you."

Diana smiled at Rose's list, in descending order of importance. "Yes, he is."

"I do not even need to ask if you love him as well," Rose giggled. "Oh, I am _so_ happy for you!"

"Thank you, dear. Now, will you tell me why you came to call at such an ungodly hour?" asked Diana pointedly. "Am I to congratulate you as well?"

Rose blushed. "It is uncanny how you seem to know _everything!_ " she exclaimed, proudly holding out her left hand, where a sapphire ring gleamed on her ring finger. It was much larger than Diana's, and much more ostentatious, but it suited Rose and, if the brilliant smile on her face was anything to go by, she was quite happy with it.

"Lord Bolton?" clarified Diana. Rose nodded eagerly, and Diana threw her arms around her friend. "Oh, what wonderful news!"

Rose thanked her before launching into a discussion of wedding details. They were to be married as soon as the Season started, and until then she would be travelling with her mother to his estate and overseeing any matters that were not to her liking. " _And_ I received an invitation today, for the Darcy's Christmas ball," added Rose. "So, if you change your mind about being fussy and choose to get married sooner rather than later, I will be more than willing to extend my trip north."

Diana rolled her eyes. "Was that supposed to be subtle?"

"No, darling, it was meant to be inspirational," Rose winked. "And you will be in my wedding party, will you not?"

"Naturally," said Diana dryly. "I can't imagine you have many friends left now that you are to be Lady Bolton."

"No, not many at all," agreed Rose cheerily.

 **!**

"I may have inadvertently caused a bit of a ruckus," were the words that greeted Richard as soon as he entered Diana's sitting-room. She was alone – he had beaten his parents there for dinner with a vague excuse that he was sure no one believed, but they had humoured him anyway. Diana was seated on her divan, a book on her lap. She looked much prettier than the last few times he had seen her at dinner. Her hair was carefully styled, dotted with glittering stones that sparkled as she angled her head to glance at him. Her dress was a mint green colour that highlighted her figure, with a glistening brooch pinned to an ivory lace shawl she had thrown about her shoulders. She laughed nervously when she saw him pause in the doorway. "Don't stare."

He blinked. "It is quite difficult not to," confessed Richard, kissing the back of her hand and coming to sit opposite her. "Also, I am sure you did nothing wrong. How was Lady Rose?"

"Fine. She is engaged to Sir Ralph."

"Fantastic news. Did she come to thank you?"

Diana gave him a sour look. "Don't be petty, Richard."

Richard raised his hands in defeat. "What is it that you did, then? Declare your love for Ralph Bolton?"

Diana huffed. "If you continue to be so vexing I won't tell you!"

He smiled at that. The familiar glint in her eyes that he was sure no one could entice but himself was back, displaying her annoyance clearly. He would never be able to explain how much he enjoyed seeing it, but he did and it was always satisfying to know there was one reaction that was reserved for him alone. "I apologize," he reached over to grasp her hand, pressing a quick kiss to the inside of her wrist and winking at her blushing face charmingly. "Will you tell me what happened now?"

Diana rolled her eyes, but her cheeks were still pink. "She asked me when we would announce the engagement, and I said next week."

Richard raised his eyebrows. "But I thought –"

"Yes, I _know_ I said I did not want anyone to know," Diana groaned and stood up, beginning to pace the room quickly. "I _did_ want that, but Rose would have never been able to keep a secret like this, and I would rather everyone found out on my terms rather than hers," Diana stopped pacing and gave him a pleading look. "And I do not want to wait, not after what you showed me this morning. It feels silly to worry so much about what people will think now. You said you did not care either way. Do you? Did I make a mistake?"

Richard stood up and crossed the room, ignoring her murmured, half-hearted protests and taking her into his arms. "You did nothing wrong, my love," he soothed. Diana sighed in relief and slumped against his chest, resting her head against his shoulder. He was surprised at how upset she seemed to be as she contemplated the idea that he might disapprove of her decision. How could he, since now it meant he would not have to hear of men declaring her to be an excellent, _single_ woman at the club? Or watch helplessly as men approached Henry and asked how well his wife was acquainted with her, and whether he could facilitate an introduction? His brother had rejected several requests out of courtesy for him, but Richard knew Henry had always been of the opinion that Diana should remarry, and soon. At least his conscience would be clear now. "You do not have to ask my permission for such things," he continued, entwining their fingers and offering her a comforting smile when she glanced up at him. "You could have told Lady Rose you wanted to marry me this afternoon and I would have been happy to comply."

His jest worked. Diana giggled, her shoulders no longer stiff. She smiled at him thankfully, and he merely kissed her hand in reply. She sighed. "I suppose we ought to make the arrangements."

"You are a newly-engaged woman, my lady. You will do nothing except prepare to take callers," he teased, relieved to find her smiling again. "As much as I love your independence, allow me to be somewhat useful."

Diana threw him an amused look. "If you insist," was all she said. She made to pull back, but Richard did not release her. She rolled her eyes, but stopped moving and merely changed the subject. "And where is everyone else? You came alone?"

"I came early," he corrected, smirking slightly.

"These unchaperoned visits will end by tomorrow," warned Diana, but she was smiling slightly as well. "I would advise you not to get too used to them."

"I highly doubt even you could find a chaperone for yourself when I come to call tomorrow morning," said Richard smugly.

Diana snorted. "You have no idea what Sarah is capable of."

Richard settled his arms around her waist, marvelling at her figure once again. Diana's fingers played with the buttons of his coat absently, and she was close enough for him to finally examine the brooch. It was a sunflower with a diamond centre and a gold stem. The petals were made of coloured glass, with flecks of orange and green in them. Of course. She loved sunflowers.

Diana saw him looking and smiled. "Pretty, isn't it?"

"Quite," Richard smiled, but it did not reach his eyes.

Almost as if she read his mind, Diana continued casually. "It was a present from Rose. She has excellent taste."

Ah. So her rich husband had nothing to do with this present. Richard nodded, pushed the thought from his mind as he knew she wanted him to, then remembered what they had been speaking of. "Sarah? The maid who was cleaning your already immaculate mantle this morning?" he asked in amusement. Diana nodded. He grinned. "I am sure she can be brought to see reason."

"I doubt it, but you are welcome to try."

"Was that an invitation?"

"Do you need one?"

"It would make my future actions seem less inappropriate."

"Do shut up, darling."

 **!**

"I am so sorry you have to leave us," said Lady Fitzwilliam sympathetically, patting Mina's arm. "I know you've never been away from Diana for more than a few days, but you know I will look after her."

"I do not doubt you," said Mina quietly, sipping her tea and keeping her eyes locked onto the couple seated by the fire. Everyone was watching them in their own, subtle way – Lord Fitzwilliam was discussing a book with Henry, but every so often one of them would look towards Diana and Richard and smile, and then return to their conversation. Emily was pacing the room slowly, putting baby Margaret to sleep, but smiling softly every time her eyes strayed towards them. Little Henry was busy playing with Diana's crystal ornaments and occupied his spare time by throwing brilliant, toothless smiles in Diana's direction, which she returned delightedly. Even Lady Fitzwilliam was beaming at them. The only person _not_ smiling in the room was, of course, Mina.

"And yet you do not seem overly pleased," Lady Fitzwilliam's voice was as gentle as pleasant as ever, but Mina was immediately on guard. Though they were the best of friends, they often clashed. Alexandra preferred to discuss their differences and come to a conclusion, one that usually was in her favour, while Mina preferred to avoid confrontation altogether. The two could get past any issue that presented itself. And yet, this was not one such issue.

"I am merely surprised," hedged Mina.

"You are disappointed that she did not wait and accept Ralph Bolton's offer."

"That does not mean I have anything against Richard."

"How could you?" Lady Fitzwilliam smiled, but it did not reach her eyes. "He is _my_ son, after all." The subtle warning was clear.

"Sir Ralph had asked for my permission," said Mina carefully, keeping her eyes on her daughter to make sure she did not hear. "I had given my consent. I expected it to happen, of course. I had no idea Richard planned to propose."

"He is a spontaneous boy, and you seem to give and withdraw consent quite freely," said Lady Fitzwilliam, sipping her tea daintily. "Having a child married for longer than you have, my dear, I would strongly advise against it. Diana is quite stubborn, after all. Like her father."

"She is too much like her father," muttered Mina sullenly. "I cannot take that comparison lightly, as she seems to."

"She was a child when it happened, Mina. In many ways, she is still a child," Alexandra noted the blush on Diana's cheeks and the shy aversion of her eyes every time Richard said something to her, encouraging Mina to do the same. "She has never had a proper courtship."

"And having one under the scrutiny of London's finest is a good way to start, I suppose?"

"Not at all. She will be at our estate by the time the news breaks. She may be a child in some ways, but she is perfectly capable of handling the few people who would dare to question her decision. You must have some faith, dear."

"It is the one thing I lack," was all Mina said. Diana laughed at that moment, and even her mother had to admit she had not heard her daughter sound so carefree in a long, long time.

* * *

 **Hallo again! Hope this one makes up for the slight delay previously. New chapter expected in 4 days (fingers crossed... My writer's block and lack of time is just driving me crazy). Hope you all enjoyed this one!**

 **Onto review replies:**

 **Deanna27: Thank you for the love, glad you're still reading, reviewing and enjoying this!**

 **Kss: I'm glad you saw it that one! I can't imagine someone as careful as Diana letting go of her safety net so fully, but it won't be this way forever!**

 **LookingAnswers: glad to have you back, so happy you're still enjoying the story!**

 **Contrari Mari: I strongly advise you to publish a collection of your reviews on my story, if you do this on other authors' work too I would not be surprised to learn you are everyone's favourite reader! I look forward to reading the limerick, I wish my chapters were as entertaining to read as your reviews are, but unfortunately some Regency-style action is all I can do! Glad you notice and appreciate my love for Regency language and actions, its always nice when that gets noticed. Also, Mr. Collins and truffles? I would PAY to see that! Thank you for the wonderful review, I am not lying when I say I look forward to reading these every time I update. If I end up publishing, you are getting a dedication! Thank you again! 3**

 **That's all for now, folks. Drop me a line and tell me if this story is still as beloved as it was before. Until next time, much love! x**


	32. Chapter 32

"Stop that."

"Sorry."

Diana rolled her eyes and turned a page of her book. "Darling, sorry means you will _stop."_

"We clearly have different definitions of the word," said Richard, a smile in his voice. They were sitting in the garden, and Sarah had inconspicuously drawn the curtains of the windows that overlooked the spot, allowing them some degree of privacy which could be highly inappropriate were it not for the fact that the house was teeming with servants. They had all begun to rise earlier than normal once they had realized their mistress was taking one specific caller at early hours of the morning. Rather than being confronted with scandal, however, Sarah had informed Diana in amusement that the lower housemaids seemed to find it utterly romantic, the butler and housekeeper pretended it was not happening, and the footmen studiously avoided mentioning any such goings on. Her mother was still there, however, but Diana had the sneaking suspicion she had given up on controlling her, at least for now. It was a welcome change.

Diana tried to refocus on her book, but he was making it increasingly difficult to concentrate. She had been sitting on a stone ledge off the side of the garden when he had arrived, reading a book he had lent her some time ago. Richard had not interrupted, merely sitting down slightly closer to her than appropriate and reading it over her shoulder casually. It was only when the wind had dislocated a curl from her chignon that he had finally moved, catching the soft lock between his fingers and tucking it back into place. The third time it had escaped, however, he had contented himself by using it to tickle her neck, which was already angled slightly to allow him a view of her page. At first, Diana had humoured him, knowing he was simply doing it because she would never allow him to touch her so intimately with anything except her own hair, but eventually she had grown tired of it. If he wanted her to stop reading, he only needed to ask, after all.

"I am going to take this as a hint that you would like me to give you my undivided attention," said Diana finally, marking her page and closing the book, turning back to look at him with an arched brow. "Satisfied?"

"For now," he winked, and Diana rolled her eyes. Richard chuckled and subtly drew her closer, his warm hand caressing her cheek. "I have missed you."

"You saw me yesterday morning," pointed out Diana, but smiled nevertheless. "And it was _you_ who insisted on working all day yesterday. I was quite unoccupied."

"Will you be one of those wives who begrudges a husband his work, then?" teased Richard.

Diana shrugged. "Only when it cuts into time better spent with myself."

"My father is taking us to the opera tonight, I would assume that would help."

Diana sighed. "Darling, _you_ bought the tickets. I would hardly credit your father for the outing, though I do adore him."

"I have the ability to buy tickets because of whose son I am, my love."

"Your heritage isn't your fault," said Diana. Richard still did not look convinced, and the tell-tale darkening of his eyes and stiffening of his shoulders made her worry. Impulsively, she edged closer and rested her head against his shoulder. She could feel his surprise, but he drew an arm around her nevertheless, his hand finding her left one to play with her fingers. "I wonder what the world would be like if you were running it," she continued casually, inwardly relieved that his posture had loosened. "I doubt I would have a title."

Richard laughed at that. "What do you take me for, an anti-monarchist?"

"Nothing so treasonous," Diana smiled. "You _would_ abolish all this aristocracy nonsense, though, I know you would."

" _You_ refer to it as nonsense and _I_ am the radical?"

"It is _your_ influence. Am I right?"

"Perhaps. There would be more important things to do first."

"Such as?"

"If I was running the world we would have been married years ago and have at least half a dozen children by now."

Diana knew he realized what he had said was wrong the minute he was done speaking, but she could not control her expression, or the way she suddenly froze in his arms. Reflexively, she made to pull away, but he held her fast, his voice a soothing but firm whisper in her ear.

"You know that isn't what I meant," he murmured, his hand squeezing hers. Her ring was cutting into his palm, she could feel it, but he did not release her hand. "It was a poor choice of words, Diana, nothing more. It doesn't matter to me."

She nodded dumbly, but did not speak. He had reassured her once before that it did not matter to him, but she knew it did. How could it not? She had always been told that there was more to marriage than the simple union of two people. It was bigger than that, solidified by the two people working to establish their own family. She could never do that with him, no matter how much she wanted to. Of course it _mattered_.

But she resisted the urge to cry. Richard did not deserve to handle her tears and heartbreak on top of his own worries. There were things to be done, to be discussed, old grievances to be aired out, but what was the point in doing so now, when he would be leaving her so soon and there was always the chance, the slightest chance, that he may not come back? The very thought made her shudder. If he had to leave her again, it was out of her hands, but it would not be like this, amidst tears and heartbreak.

"It's alright," she heard herself say. She turned to look at him and offered him a pained smile, but a genuine one. "I know what you meant. I would have said the same."

Richard nodded, his eyes still lingering on her face suspiciously. Before anything could be said, however, the tell-tale knocking came from the window and they both ventured inside wordlessly, hands still clasped.

 **!**

"Did you know Janet Dubois is in town?" were the first words that greeted Diana as soon as she entered Fitzwilliam House.

Diana frowned up at Emily, who was hovering in the doorway of the parlour, clearly waiting for her "You mean Janet Watson?"

Emily nodded. "She married that Dubois fellow, don't you remember? The Frenchman with the horrid moustache."

"Unfortunately," Diana grimaced. "How did you chance upon Janet?"

"At the jewellers. I went to pick up something for mamma, and she was there. Seemed very interested in what I was doing and buying," Emily rolled her eyes and stepped back, allowing Diana to precede her into the empty parlour. "I may have hinted at your engagement, I hope you were not planning to keep it a secret for long, dear."

"The banns are to be read in two days, I hardly think there is a soul in London who is not aware of it by now," Diana shrugged carelessly. "People will talk. An engagement is better than a wedding, nevertheless."

"Of course. Oh, pappa invited Aunt Ellen to come with us tonight," added Emily, sinking down onto one of the sofas. Diana followed suit. "She has been terribly lonely since Uncle Albert had to return to their estate."

"I have not seen her in weeks, it will be nice to catch up," smiled Diana. "You are ready uncommonly early today."

Emily rolled her eyes. "You would not _believe_ the fuss today. Mamma found out about Richard's visits to you in the mornings, and while there is nothing uncommon about them since Henry did the same trick with me many times, she threatened to take away his carriage if he kept it up," Diana turned pink, but could not help but giggle at the visual presented to her. "Richard was ready hours ago but she had pappa keep him in the study while we chatted."

"He will not appreciate the separation," came a voice from the doorway. Henry walked into the room and pressed Diana's hand fondly as he came to sit by his wife. "You are an enchantress, Diana."

"You flatter me, Henry."

"It's the truth. You have bewitched my brother _and_ my son," chuckled Henry.

Diana laughed. "How is the little darling? I fear I may have been neglecting him."

"He has recently been led to understand that you will be his aunt soon and now credits himself with the new relationship since it was he who started calling you aunt before you were even engaged," informed Henry. "It was quite endearing to hear, for the first few days. Now it is tiresome."

"Don't speak of your son as tiresome," scolded Emily.

"He is exactly like his mother," added Henry, not even looking at his wife. The small smirk on his face, however, showed that he was merely teasing.

Diana listened to their banter with a small smile on her face. A commotion near the doorway made them all stand, and Lady Ellen Carmichael glided into the room, smiling faintly. Greetings were exchanged as she accepted kisses from both women and Henry, and sat down next to Emily on the divan quietly. There was a beat of silence that left Diana confused, since Lady Carmichael had always been one to enjoy speaking. However, she did not even look up from her folded hands until Henry broke the quiet by asking for news of his uncle, to which his aunt responded in her usual way, but kept her eyes on her hands. Diana and Emily exchanged looks of confusion, but there was no time to discuss. Lady Fitzwilliam entered the room, followed by her husband and Richard, the latter of whom had an annoyed look on his face.

Diana giggled when she saw him. "You look quite bothered," she commented cheerily, allowing him to kiss her hand but indicating that he should sit opposite rather than beside her. "Did your father keep you for longer than you anticipated?"

Richard rolled his eyes. "A man should have the right to see the woman he wants to marry outside the confines of a drawing-room."

Henry interjected at that with a comment that made his mother throw him a dirty look, but Diana merely laughed again. She had been quite down the entire day after Richard had left her earlier that morning, mostly due to his accidental mention of children. While she did not blame him for wanting them, she knew it would take time for her to grow accustomed to his easy acceptance of her condition. Fortunately, the family's company never ceased to cheer her up. It was odd, she decided, smiling up at Richard's pouty expression, which was startlingly like his nephew's, but appreciated.

"I love that colour on you," said Emily as they made their way towards the door a few minutes later. "Will I ever meet this elusive draper of yours?"

"I will take you to see him tomorrow," assured Diana, just as Lady Fitzilliam asked her if she had come in her own carriage. "He is waiting outside, my lady," she answered, turning back to look at the older woman and pausing in the doorway. Richard paused as well, but Lord Fitzwilliam and Lady Carmichael walked ahead, speaking quietly.

"You and Richard can accompany Ellen in her carriage, we will go with Henry and Emily. Your carriage can follow us, dear," said Lady Fitzwilliam decidedly, and Diana did not argue. However, she did hesitate. She had not spoken to Lady Carmichael properly since she had entered the house, and she had a strange feeling she would not get an opportunity to do so soon.

She was right. Diana sat across from Richard and his aunt and smiled politely throughout the ride, but she was incredibly uncomfortable. Lady Carmichael had always been warm and inviting with Diana, talking and laughing with her and bestowing every kind of affection whenever they chanced to meet. Today, however, she barely looked at her, instead questioning Richard about his promotion, where he would be going, etc. Diana herself had heard all of this information before, of course, but everyone knew not to speak of it much in front of her. Richard knew this better than anyone, and every time he skilfully tried to change the subject and engage Diana in conversation, his aunt would ask him another question and he would be forced to answer her lest it seem rude. By the time they reached the opera house, Diana was sure she had not said more than two words the entire journey.

"Something is wrong," murmured Richard as he offered her his arm and led her into the large hall. "She is never like this."

Diana merely hummed in response. She was getting looks from the people around her, she knew that, despite the fact that she had deliberately worn another drab, grey dress, though Sarah had decked it out with silver ribbon to make it into an evening gown. She had a sneaking suspicion as to why Lady Carmichael had suddenly grown cold towards her as well, but she did not want to tell Richard. It would not be right for his fiancé to speak ill of his favourite aunt. So she merely nodded in agreement when he commented that she must be missing his uncle, and allowed him to steer her towards their box.

They had arrived just in time for the first act, which meant they would not be required to spend the appropriate amount of time socializing, and for that Diana was grateful. She had received a good number of callers at her home once news of her engagement had broken. Some had been incredibly pleasant, saying that they had always thought her and Richard would make an excellent couple and they were glad they had decided to reconnect after so many years apart and just before he was leaving, whereas others had sneered and snickered and pointedly asked her how long she believed it appropriate to mourn one's husband before going in search of a new one. Naturally, she had taken the initiative to end those visits quite abruptly.

Her suspicions were further roused when Lady Carmichael switched places with Henry halfway through the performance to sit closer to Richard, only to murmur something to him quietly and then return to her seat. Richard had turned to look at Diana after that, no doubt to inform her of what had been said, but she had studiously pretended to ignore the entire interaction. They were due for dinner at the Fitzwilliams after the opera, and she knew exactly what Lady Carmichael wanted to say to him.

 **!**

"You must tell me what this is all about, aunt," said Richard quietly, setting down the cup of tea next to Lady Carmichael and seating himself opposite her. "You have been vague all evening. What is the matter?"

Lady Carmichael sipped her tea quietly. Richard had never seen his aunt so silent. Out of both sisters, his mother was the livelier one, but his aunt was loud in her own way, with her stories and her laughter and her affection. The whole evening, however, she had acted strangely. Her lack of interaction with Diana was strange in itself, since she adored the girl and took every opportunity to tell everyone that, but her behaviour tonight proved just the opposite. It worried Richard, but more importantly it irked him. He had seen Diana's expression change throughout the course of the evening. He had entered the opera house with Diana Harris, but he had left with Lady Diana Herbert on his arm, a cold smile on her face and her eyes fixed straight ahead. He had no doubt it had everything to do with what people had been saying about her, and more than a little to do with how his aunt was acting, but he still had no idea _why_.

"Your engagement came as a surprise," said his aunt finally. Her eyes wandered and came to rest on Diana, and Richard followed her gaze. She was sitting at the other end of the room talking with his father intently. There was a book laying on the table between them, at which she gestured every now and again – they had been discussing Shakespeare when he had last joined in their conversation. Despite her simple dress, she looked radiant. He knew she had chosen the grey gown in an effort to dispel attention from herself, but it had not worked, at least not in his case. He was fond of dull colours on her. They highlighted her inner vibrancy.

"I apologize that you were not informed before," said Richard finally when she did not speak, only stared. Diana's fingers reached up to tuck a wayward curl behind her ear, and he knew that she knew they were talking about her. Her head tilted to the side, away from them and towards the wall: she hated being looked at unless it was on her own terms.

"I have no objection to you being engaged, nor the time at which you chose to do so," answered Lady Carmichael. "However…" she trailed off, her eyes still fixed on Diana.

Richard frowned. "I do not understand you, aunt."

"Have you thought this through, Richard?"

"What?"

"Marrying her."

"Diana?"

"Lady Herbert," corrected his aunt sharply. Richard blinked at her tone. "Have you considered what you are getting yourself into?"

"I fail to understand your meaning," said Richard evenly, but inside he was reeling. Was his aunt actually objecting to what he thought she was? If he was right, it would be disastrous. He had very little control of his temper once genuinely irked, and he refused to allow Diana to suffer through criticism from his own family. It was no wonder she had not commented on his aunt's strange behaviour when he had brought it up. She had clearly been aware of what was going through her head before he had.

"She is a widow. Her father… well, you remember the circumstances surrounding his death. Her mother is a terror. Her first husband died tragically. She cannot have _children_ ," Lady Carmichael rattled off the list of things she clearly found objectionable, looking at her nephew with wide eyes. "My dear, you are young! You are handsome and charming, you will find another woman soon. Maybe not one as rich as her, but money isn't all there is to life, is there?"

"You are quite mistaken," answered Richard quietly. He was fighting to keep his temper under control. It would not do to explode, even if it was in front of his closest relations. "I am not marrying her for her money. I love her. I have loved her for quite some time now."

Lady Carmichael shook her head. "Every man in her life has died awfully, Richard."

"Aunt Ellen, I do not wish to be questioned on my decision."

"Your mother should be stopping you," his aunt sighed tiredly. "She was always a romantic. Love can only go so far. Diana is a lovely girl, but she has had a bad life. Who is to say your new life with her will not be a repeat of her last marriage?"

"I say it will not," Richard finally stood up, his temper getting the better of him. He kept his voice low. "I do not appreciate you disrespecting my fiancé in such a manner as you have done today. I may be poor and she may be rich, but I care for her very much and your behaviour today has hurt her. I cannot stand for that. Excuse me," he bowed stiffly and walked away, making a beeline towards where Diana was still in conversation with his father. Though she was looking away from him, he saw the hand that was resting against her cheek turn towards him, and he reached for it gratefully, pressing a kiss to her knuckles and reluctantly letting go, watchful of his father's keen eye. However, his father stood up and offered him his chair.

"I had a feeling she would do something to anger you eventually," sighed Lord Fitzwilliam, gesturing towards where his sister-in-law sat stiffly. His mother, Richard noticed, was not going to her sister. Rather, she was speaking to her eldest son and daughter-in-law, ignoring the other occupants of the room. "She means well, but she is being a fool. I warned her to stay quiet," added his father. He patted Diana on the head and made his way towards Lady Carmichael, his face set in a frown.

Richard sat down in the empty seat, sighing deeply. Diana smiled sympathetically, but kept her hands folded in her lap. "I'm sorry, darling. I know you're quite fond of her."

"I am amazed you can even stand to be in the same room as her," Richard shook his head. "You knew why she was acting so odd, did you not? It's what she was talking to my father about, and why my mother is not speaking to her?"

Diana shrugged. "I guessed it to be so. I've heard it all before, of course, I was not surprised to realize she was thinking like so many others. She cares for you, she is not being malicious, remember that."

"Do not defend her," he said, his tone more forceful than he realized. He gave her an apologetic look, but Diana's expression was patient rather than offended, encouraging him to continue. "I teased Darcy mercilessly when he told me what Aunt Catherine did to Elizabeth, when she found out he may want to marry her. I told him I was lucky _my_ mother's sister was not insane. I suppose this is the universe teaching me a lesson."

Diana smiled. "Or it is just karma getting you back for all the times you've teased him over the years."

"Perhaps."

Diana's smile faltered at his short response, and she sighed. "People will always talk, Richard. They will always say I am unlucky or cursed, they will comment on the deaths of my father and first husband, my inability to have children, soon they will even comment on the long engagement we will have when you leave. If we let everything they say affect us, we will be quite miserable. I do not know how you feel on the matter, but I do not plan to be miserable in this marriage."

"I don't either," Richard groaned. "She is my _aunt_ , Diana. If she were anyone else –"

"I have no doubt that you would defend my honour to every extent possible," assured Diana. She leaned forward slightly, and her slipper-ed foot touched his ankle for a few seconds. He chuckled at that, and she smiled. "She can say these things if she wants, Richard. In time, she will be fine. We both know I am not cursed."

Richard snorted. "I won't be here to ensure she behaves herself in that time."

"You worry too much."

"I want you to be happy."

Diana threw him a confused look. "Have I given you any indication that I am anything _but_ happy?"

Richard shook his head. "That is not the kind of happiness I meant."

Diana paused before speaking, her voice lower than before. "I had given up on happiness a very long time ago. I told your father that a few days after I saw you again. But then you wanted to marry me, and I was _so_ happy," she finally reached out a hand, and he held it with both of his own, his head bent but she knew he was listening to her every word. She continued earnestly, "I was sure I would never be happier than I was on that day, but every day you prove me wrong by doing something or saying something that makes me happier still. Never doubt that."

Richard did not answer, but he did not need to. He pressed his lips against her hands for a few seconds, longer than appropriate but necessary after her confession, and then let her go, indicating the book still lying beside her and asking her, quietly, if she would read to him. Diana smiled and obeyed.

* * *

 **Hello, all! So sorry for the delay, if its any consolation I had a chapter written out but it didn't feel right to post it yet, so I ended up working on a filler which then turned into 4k words of awesomeness. I'm quite happy with this chapter, mostly because I realized via reviews that everyone thought the Fitzwilliams were the perfect family, in direct contrast to Diana's small circle. Newsflash: no family is perfect, and I will not allow them to be the exception!**

 **On to reviews. Many thanks to:**

 **Mpf2741: Hope this long chapter makes you happy, fingers crossed for a wedding!**

 **Christinebj: Hahaha glad you enjoyed that bit! And yes, things are better now so I plan to update more often, not to worry! Thank you for the concern 3**

 **Deanna27: Ah, wouldn't we all love for those things to happen! Lets see ;)**

 **LovePersuasion: So happy you're enjoying the story, I hope you liked this chapter too! The wedding is on everyone's minds I see, fingers crossed!**

 **Contrari Mari: Your remarks on the clueless sidekick are excellent, they define my own opinion of the character type so well. I do love Rose, bless her, but she is a means to an end, and I don't mean that in a bad way at all! Its a relief when I write her, because I know exactly what her function is. With a character like Diana, I have to analyse every word, to make sure everything she says comes off not only as what _I_ want the reader to know but also what she as a character wants _other_ characters to know. This chapter highlights that quite a bit, I hope you picked up on it! Your comments on Mina have made me smile, as they always do, and if I was a different writer in a different era I may have taken that choke chain suggestion to heart. However, classy manipulation is a girl's best friend, no matter what century we're in, I hope you agree. And I'm so glad you agree that a lack of sex does not make for a bad story. In the immortal words of JK Rowling when she was told Fifty Shades of Grey had beaten her record: "Imagine how many more books I could have sold if Harry had been a little more creative about where he stuck his wand." Ick! So crass. While I have nothing against reading a good old fashioned romance, I have always been a strong believer in words and actions speaking to a person more than any form of physical affection. I was worried about how much people would be anticipating the kiss, and their wedding night when I end up writing the wedding, and your review made me feel so much better now that I know people appreciate the lack of sex too! Of course, I have no doubt that if I'd been smart enough to add some scandalous scenes with the two my review counter may break, but to each his own, I suppose. Your reviews always make me smile, I'd be sorry to lose you as a reader! Thank you once again for the wonderful comments and I look forward to reading more xx**

 **That's all for now, folks! The next chapter is written, and a new character is coming to play, just in time for them to escape the madness that is London! What would everyone like to see now? I'm curious to know what you think, and if you've been keeping up with my Pinterest page. There are many updates on that, I'm enjoying maintaining it alongside the story. Let me know if anyone would like me to repost the link, it doesn't show up on my profile but I've tried to post it at the end of ANs before!**

 **Until next time! Much love xx**


	33. Chapter 33

"The finx is pwetty."

"Quite," agreed Diana solemnly, successfully hiding her urge to chuckle at the little boy's serious declarations, only made amusing due to the pronounced lisp he had developed. He was sensitive about it, however, and his uncle and father enjoyed teasing him mercilessly. Diana was sympathetic, she had pretty eyes and she did not call him a baby when he asked to be carried around in public. Naturally, she was his pronounced favourite.

"Henry, I told you not to make Aunty Diana carry you," scolded Emily as she returned to the pair on her husband's arm. Henry hid his face against Diana's shoulder, causing her to giggle and even his mother to crack a smile. His father continued to smile indulgently. He rarely interfered in his wife's methods of raising the children.

"I enjoy carrying him," said Diana, resting her cheek against his soft hair. "He will be too big for me to do it soon, after all."

"And Aunty Diana knows so many things about 'Gyptians!" exclaimed Henry, peering at his mother and judging himself to be safe now that there was an adult defending him. "She says she'll read me a book 'bout them too!"

"Indeed I will," agreed Diana lightly. She adjusted her grip on the little boy. "I think we shall take another round and then join you at the carriage, Emily."

Emily, however, looked hesitant. "Henry, get down and go to your father for a minute," she said finally. When the little boy looked like he would argue, she fixed him with a look. "If you are a good boy I will let you stay a few more minutes with Aunty Diana."

That was enough to send little Henry running after his namesake, who merely shrugged and held the boy's hand, allowing him to lead them towards another exhibit. Diana looked at Emily curiously. "What is it?"

"Janet is here."

Diana froze. Emily squeezed her hand sympathetically. "Has she seen me?" asked Diana finally.

"Not yet, but I have no doubt that she will soon."

"I do not want to avoid her, Emily."

"I know you aren't afraid of her, dear, but she can be very unpleasant," Emily patted her arm. "And Richard told me about Aunt Ellen. I hate that you have to go through such things."

"It's alright," Diana shrugged, unwilling to discuss it for long. Lady Carmichael had shown no inclination to remedy the damage her words had caused, and Diana had given up hope of expecting her to. "Henry will be disappointed if I do not take him around the exhibit."

"I could stay with you."

"Or Richard could," said Diana pointedly.

Emily nodded in understanding. "I will send him to you immediately. I'm sure Henry knows where he is. If you need us, dear, we'll be at the carriage."

Diana nodded, retrieved Henry and, after one last meaningful look, the couple went in search of Richard and Diana resumed her walk. She patiently went around the large room once more, answering all of Henry's questions with the same amount of enthusiasm she had displayed the first time he had asked them. Though there was a serene smile on her face, inwardly she was slightly annoyed. She had timed this outing specifically and spent two days planning with her future mother-in-law to ensure it would be appropriate and convenient. The banns had been read two days ago, and other than a few minor stares at the church, nothing of consequence had happened. She knew a few strategic public appearances, both with Richard and without him, but with his family, would be necessary, but he had been in the war office every second he was not with her, and she knew she could not interrupt his work. She had finally dragged him from his commitments for an afternoon to the museum which was displaying a collection of Egyptian artefacts recently arrived from the East, and Henry and Emily had volunteered to accompany them as chaperones. Little Henry had been content to stay at home until he had learned that "Aunty Diana" would be going with his parents and uncle. A tantrum had ensued near the doorway, and barely five minutes later Diana had promptly swept him up into her arms and climbed into the carriage without a word.

However, now the only male accompanying her was the little boy who thought the elaborate headdresses were both ridiculous and fascinating. Richard had wandered off when they entered the large hall, and she had spotted him conversing with a few other men she knew vaguely, since they had all been out in society at the same time. She was not clingy or needy, being perfectly capable of conducting herself without a male nearby, but it irked her that he did not take what she had done seriously. Added to that, she had no desire to face Janet Dubois alone. The woman had been horrible to her, and she had no doubt that little had changed. Though it was ridiculous, Diana could not help but resent Richard for his inability to understand such things. His carelessness in all matters was endearing, but today it was tiresome.

"My, my, is that Diana Harris?"

Diana paused. She had not heard _that_ voice in years, but of course Janet would appear now when she least wanted her to. She allowed herself fifteen seconds before turning around and facing the one woman she had hoped never to set eyes on again. "Hello, Miss Watson."

"Madame Dubois, actually," Janet Dubois smiled coldly. Neither woman spoke for a few seconds, and Diana was forcefully reminded of the time they had first met. If there had been one woman who could have rivalled her when she had come out, it had been Janet Watson. They had been introduced to society at the same time, but Diana had been infinitely more popular. She did not credit her beauty or wit, however. She had been an impossible debutante, least interested in securing admirers and dancing. However, she had been kind, and that had worked in her favour. Janet had always been second best, more so due to her elitist attitude than any lack of social skills, and it had always been something she had never accepted. They had run in completely different circles, Janet's family preferring to mingle with foreign dignitaries and Diana often in the company of the Fitzwilliams, but when they had chanced to meet it had never been pleasant. Everything they stood for was opposite: Janet had always looked down on Diana for her heritage and Diana had always hated her with a passion, one that Janet had shared. Clearly, time apart had done nothing to ease their feelings. She had married a French diplomat shortly after Diana's own marriage in a whisper of scandal and rumours of wedlock, and had departed for France soon after. Diana had chosen never to hear news of her, secretly glad that the only woman who could make her uncomfortable was gone from the country. Janet was clever and pretty, but most of all she was observant. She had picked up Diana's insecurities and she had played on them, and Diana was determined to make sure it never happened again.

Diana kept her expression perfectly blank. Her poker face was excellent, and she was sure it rivalled Janet's. Eventually, the staring contest ended. Diana felt a miniscule amount of smugness at the fact that it was Janet who spoke first. "Lovely to see you, of course," she inclined her head slightly. "It has been too long, has it not?"

"I confess, if it had been longer I would have forgotten all about you," said Diana evenly. She did not smile. "I had no idea you were even in town."

"I rarely come before the season," Janet shrugged casually. "However, my youngest has never seen England, so we have been touring the Lakes this summer. I merely came down to do some Christmas shopping."

"How very quaint," said Diana. Janet paused, as if expecting her to say more, but Diana did not speak. She wanted to leave, but Madame Dubois seemed intent on speaking to her.

The smile she offered did not reach her eyes. "Last I heard, Diana, you were a widow," her eyes flickered down, to the sparkling engagement ring on Diana's left hand. "Perhaps I got the timeline wrong. Has it been a year already?"

"No, it has not," Diana's voice did not waver. "Richard is going to the continent soon, and I did not want to wait."

Janet's eyebrows shot up. "Richard _Fitzwilliam_? Do not tell me," she laughed airily. "You finally fell for that charm of his, did you? Don't feel badly about it, dear, you wouldn't be the first."

"She will certainly be the last," said Richard cheerily, smoothly sliding into the conversation without batting an eye. Diana did not reach to his presence except to accept the arm he offered her, pressing down on his sleeve in an indication of her displeasure but otherwise keeping her expression mild. Janet did not need to know how she was truly feeling at that point. "Lovely to see you, Madame Dubois."

"I highly doubt you can control who you charm, Colonel," Janet inclined her head to the side in greeting. Despite Richard's pleasant expression, he did not bow, or ask for her hand. The slight was subtle, but understood.

"It is Major General now, actually," said Richard in the same tone. "And how is your husband?"

"Very well. He will be joining us for Christmas," replied Janet. Her eyes flickered back to Diana. "I suppose congratulations are in order for you both."

"That is very kind of you," Richard smiled. Diana did not speak. He was doing a much better job of handling Janet than she could, after all.

"Of course. It _is_ a little early to be thinking of marrying again, though, is it not?" asked Janet innocently. She turned to Diana with a small smirk. "Then again, you did always work fast, dear."

Finally, she snapped. "Yes, darling, it was something I learned from you, particularly when it came to marriage," said Diana with an equally innocent smile. Janet's expression froze on her face, two crimson sports appearing on either of her cheeks. Diana took advantage of her silence to turn back and grab Henry's hand. "I do apologise, but we really must be going. Come along, Henry."

The appearance of a child seemed to snap Janet out of her stupor. She gave a shrill, fake laugh, one that made Diana freeze and caused Henry hide behind Diana's skirts. "Oh, isn't he a gem!" she cooed, the glint in her eye causing Diana to sense that the next words she spoke would be terrible. "Wherever did you steal him from? He's not _yours,_ Diana, we all know _that_."

Diana stopped and closed her eyes to take a deep breath, her hand still gripping Henry's tightly. The little boy looked utterly confused, and she cursed herself for putting him in such a position before picking him up, allowing him to cuddle up against her shoulder. She did not look at Janet when she responded. "He is Henry and Emily's son, of course."

"Of course," repeated Janet. She sounded smug.

"And how is your son, Madame?" asked Richard. Diana threw him a look of confusion. Was he really so clueless? Did he not see she wanted to _leave_? "He is eight years old now, is he not?"

Janet blinked. Her expression became odd. "Only seven."

"Odd. I distinctly remember my mother saying your son was a few months old when she ran into you in France shortly after your marriage," Richard shrugged. Janet paled considerably. "I must ask her what she meant. Perhaps Mrs. Davenport or Lady Carmichael will know the finer details."

Janet was positively reeling now. Clearly, a reminder of old rumours was enough to get her to stop talking, and a hint that Richard would be bringing them back to life probably made her want to faint. Diana could only watch in shock as she muttered something about having a prior engagement and nodded stiffly at the couple before turning on her heel and walking away, fast.

She was jerked out of her reverie when she felt his hand on her elbow, tugging her forward. "I was told you wanted to leave," he murmured, leading her gently towards the exit. "Here," he lifted Henry out of her arms easily, making a silly face at the boy to encourage him to laugh and lifting him onto his shoulders. He reached for her hand once he was done, settling it onto his arm and squeezing it reassuringly. "I should not have left you alone."

"No, you should not have," agreed Diana faintly. "Richard, did you just –"

"I did."

"How did you know what to say?"

"I may not be as clever as you, Diana, but I do pay attention," he kept his eyes fixed ahead, his expression still pleasant and his tone conversational. To anyone looking, they seemed to be enjoying a simple conversation. "I could not stop her from saying what she was saying, but I could make her want to leave."

"I did not think you would," said Diana quietly. Richard frowned, his mask breaking as he looked down at her curiously. She shrugged helplessly. "You do not understand these things, not like I do. I did not expect this."

"I do not have to understand these things," said Richard gently. They reached the carriage and he set down Henry, allowing him to run up the steps and into his mother's arms. However, he made Diana stop as he continued speaking. "What she said hurt you, Diana. If someone hurts you, I will do everything I can to make sure it never happens again. I do not understand the necessity of making everyone approve of us, I admit, but that does not mean I do not want to try."

"You want to try because I want you to," said Diana quietly.

"Is that really such a bad reason?"

Diana bit her lip and considered, before shaking her head slowly. "It is as good as any, I suppose."

 **!**

"Do you think it would be too bold to prefer another sapphire over a plain band for the wedding ring?"

Diana groaned and pushed her plate away, signalling to a footman to collect the dishes. "Do try and contain your excitement, dear."

"Do try and pretend you _aren't_ heartbroken," retorted Rose, twirling her new ring around her finger pointedly.

"Why would I be heartbroken?" demanded Diana. "I am engaged as well."

"Yes, but I get to be married first."

Diana laughed. "Only _you_ could think of that as a reason to be envious. Darling, I am _happy_ for you."

"I am just teasing," said Rose. She smiled. "I can see how happy you are, you know. Other people can too."

"And other people also see other, strange things," pointed out Diana.

Rose shrugged. "We have always concerned ourselves too much with what people think."

Diana's mouth fell open. "Is this _you_ talking?"

Rose sighed. "Women would talk of me if I did _not_ marry soon, and now that I plan to they are talking some more. I will let them talk now. I doubt Ralph will like coming to London again so soon after the wedding, and I want to settle into the estate."

Diana shook her head wonderingly. "You do sound so grown-up, Rose."

"It is about time, is it not?"

"Perhaps," Diana smiled. "As long as your decisions are your own."

"They are. And Ralph is very supportive. And what about you, dear?" Rose raised an eyebrow. "The Major General is going away soon, and you have effectively banished your mother. Will you stay with the Fitzwilliams?"

Diana shrugged. "I could even stay here. The house is mine, after all."

Rose snorted. "You hate London, Diana."

"I do not!"

"Do not even try to deny it. You hate the city, you love the country. Take advantage of the love his parents have for you, I say. It won't last long after you're married. Do you remember what Lady Fitzwillima did to Emily, after her marriage to the viscount?"

Diana sighed. "I _highly_ doubt she will do the same to me."

"She loved Emily just as much as she loves you _before_ she married her son."

Diana shook her head. "I've seen the way she is with me. Perhaps it is merely because _I_ am marrying the son that is soon leaving, and the younger son at that, but she has never uttered the words 'title-seeker' to me."

"Well, she can't very well do that, can she?" asked Rose pointedly. "You have a title _and_ money. Emily only had one, and so she was spared being called a fortune-hunter. Her ladyship can do other things, however."

"She will _not_ , Rose," said Diana firmly. Rose sighed but let the topic go, and they conversed genially on other matters. It was not until her friend took her leave and Diana was allowing Sarah to brush and plait her hair that the topic was even considered again.

Sarah noticed her preoccupation. "Was your trip this afternoon satisfactory, mum?" she asked, brushing out the tangles from her long hair gently. "You did not mention it much."

"It was tolerable," Diana shrugged, unwilling to bring up Janet Dubois and her stinging comments just yet, not when she had tried so hard to forget them all day. Instead, she broached another subject. "Do you remember what Lady Alexandra said to Lady Emily, after she married the viscount?"

Sarah hesitated, but nodded. "It caused quite a stir," she admitted. "Cook heard it from their housemaid, who is her niece. Apparently, she heard it from the footman who was outside the door when it happened."

"Remind me what it was, dear."

"Her ladyship did not give Lady Emily a wedding present. All of the presents were from her husband, or his lordship, and other family members," informed Sarah, setting down the brush and beginning to plait her hair. "Lady Emily noticed, and said something to her husband about it. The viscount mentioned it to his mother, and they say he was very casual about it. He does not have a head for these things, does he, mum?" Diana shrugged, though inwardly she agreed. As intelligent as he was, Henry was even more hopeless than Richard when it came to the intricacies of social norms. The groom's mother refusing to give the bride a bridal gift was a pointed snub, after all. "Well, her ladyship was furious, and she brought out two boxes of jewellery, and Cook said there was a set of emeralds and one of sapphires, but I think she was exaggerating, mum, because the housemaid said she took them out of her room and I don't think her ladyship keeps boxes of colourful stones in her room," Diana chuckled lightly at Sarah's matter-of-fact tone, but did not interrupt. "She brought them out and took them to where Lady Emily was reading, and drops them down on her lap, easy as you please," Sarah shook her head and shuddered, as if she was remembering having witnessed the entire scene. "Cook said there was yelling, and the sound of something breaking, so the footman came in thinking someone had thrown something, but it was just a china doll shattered on the floor and her ladyship was hugging Lady Emily as if nothing had happened," Sarah shrugged and tied off the braid with a ribbon, reaching for the brush to run it through a few flyaways. "The housemaids say it was a test, to see how she would react when her ladyship presented her with the jewellery."

"And what do you think, Sarah?" asked Diana curiously.

Sarah frowned. "It seems an odd sort of test to give someone after they're already married your son, mum," she said, her tone truthful. "If her ladyship wanted to know what kind of woman Lady Emily was, she ought to have done something like that before they married."

"Yes, but that would scare her away," said Diana, getting up from her dressing-table and accepting the robe Sarah held out to her. "Her ladyship would prefer to have a woman who feared her, as her daughter-in-law. So if Emily _was_ a fortune-hunter, Lady Fitzwilliam knew it, and she would act accordingly, rather than be made a fool of."

"Wouldn't she want to stop her son from marrying such a woman?"

Diana shrugged. "Even for someone as wonderful as Lady Fitzwilliam, a _happy_ marriage isn't a priority, not for the first-born son. A _smart_ marriage is important, and Emily was a very, very smart choice. It helped that she was kind as well."

Sarah frowned. "That's an odd sort of way to think, isn't it?"

"Other people may say the way I think is odd," Diana sank into her armchair by the fire and picked up her book, flipping through the pages until she came to the one she was looking for, where a deep red carnation was preserved between the leaves. She smiled. "I suppose they would be right as well."

* * *

 **Hallo, all! Ugh I edited the chapter beautifully, answered all the reviews and had written a perfect AN... and then the document did not save. My frustrations are at an all-time high right now, so suffice to say I hope you all enjoy this chapter. The story isn't quite over yet, but I'm enjoying exploring different sides of all my characters. I feel like the entire focus shouldn't be on Richard and Diana, but sometimes the bug hits and I _have_ to write a 4k chapter about them (hint: that's the next one).**

 **Let me know what you thought of Janet Dubois. I would have loved to build up to her, draw it out more, but the plot demands that she appear now, and then disappear until required. Anyway, on to review replies! Apologies in advance for the short answers, but thank you to:**

 **Gaskellian: Glad you're still here, hope you're enjoying the story!**

 **Guest: So happy you're enjoying it, and yes that conversation is coming up soon, I promise!**

 **suddenlysingle: fingers crossed!**

 **LovePP: if only life was that simple!**

 **Contrari Mari: Another wonderful review to brighten my day! I love the amount of time you devote to this story and to your comments, it really gives me the confidence to take all sorts of twists and turns I would normally be too afraid to take in case my readers come after me with pitchforks! I'm so happy you find them to be a realistic and wonderful couple, and kudos to you for managing such a happy married life. I'm a cynic when it comes to marriage and love and all that, but writing about it does give me hope, so its as therapeutic for me to write it as it is enjoyable for you to read! I advise you to keep tissues handy, but I won't say more here, I'd hate to give anything away. And thank you for that wonderful compliment, I should change my username to that just to brag - but I will resist the urge. Once again, THANK YOU! XX**

 **See you next time, folks. Much love xx**


	34. Chapter 34

"Your trunk is packed, the jewellery box is also inside though I would much prefer to keep it with me, but if you insist I'll add extra locks to make sure it stays secure. And the –"

"Take a breath, dear," Diana glanced at her maid in amusement and swatted her hands away, pinning the last curl back into place and shaking her head. "You will travel with our trunks, Jenny, a footman and the driver in my own carriage and stop every time we do. I fail to understand why you are so worried."

"Not worried at all," squeaked Sarah. Diana gave her a look. She turned red. Uncharacteristically, her voice took on a whining quality. "Travelling makes me anxious!"

"I'm sure John can help with that," said Diana slyly, referring to the footman she had seen look at Sarah longingly when he thought no one was paying attention. It was interesting how much easier the lives of her servants were when it came to love rather than hers, mused Diana as Sarah went even redder and excused herself from the room. Sarah could spend an inappropriate amount of time with John without anyone being the wiser. Diana, on the other hand, despite her money and power, could barely spend an hour alone in Richard's company before he would be forced to leave for the sake of propriety.

She glanced around the room one last time. It was devoid of all her personal belongings, not that there had been many to begin with. She was due to leave after breakfast, but Sarah had been up and bustling about since dawn, so she had gotten little sleep. The house would be shut up for Christmas, and Diana had given most of the servants the holidays off to go visit their families. A new idea had been floating around in her mind ever since she had voiced her decision to stay with the Fitzwilliams to Emily, one that she was sure she would have to discuss with Richard eventually, but for now she decided to keep it to herself. She exited the room and made her way down the stairs, noting with some amusement that Sarah was standing in the middle of the dining-room looking utterly confused.

"Are you all right, darling?" asked Diana, sitting down and pouring herself some tea. Sarah jerked out of her reverie and looked at Diana with a mixture of helplessness and curiosity. Diana glanced around the room idly. John was stationed near the door, looking relaxed as always, but the tell-tale pink in his cheeks matched Sarah's perfectly, and it made her want to laugh. "Perhaps you should want for me in the sitting-room, Sarah," said Diana, fighting to control her laughter. "We can go over the luggage one last time."

"Very good, mum," said Sarah breathlessly, bobbing a quick curtsey and rushing from the door.

Diana sipped her tea and swallowed down her laughter. "John?"

"My lady?" his voice came out higher than she was used to. Diana tried not to laugh.

"I hope you are not upset about spending Christmas away from your family," she said kindly. John blinked at her statement, and Diana wondered how many times she had addressed him directly before. She had always made it a point to be kind to her servants, but perhaps her personal interactions had always been limited to Sarah and the butler. Of course, that would have to change now, especially if she was right in her suspicions about John's affection for her favourite maid.

"It is no trouble, my lady," said John, bowing slightly. He looked flustered. "I – that is to say, thank you, my lady, for asking how I felt."

Diana smiled and nodded, making her way out of the room and back to where Sarah was waiting for her, wringing her hands. She laughed. "What _is_ the matter with you?"

"Oh, mum!" Sarah buried her face into her hands. "Its John!"

"So I was right?" Diana sank down on to the sofa and kicked off her shoes, stifling a yawn behind her hand.

"He kissed me!" Sarah removed her hands from her face, but one look at Diana's expression of shock had her hiding it again. "Oh, I _knew_ it was bad!"

"Bad?" Diana pulled herself out of her confused state and beckoned to Sarah, forcing her to sit down and patting her back comfortingly. "Why is it _bad_?"

"Your face says it is bad!"

"I was surprised!"

" _Why would you be surprised?"_

"Well, _I_ certainly haven't kissed anyone recently, so –"

"Oh, you liar, the Major General comes early in the morning every day and you say you have never done that!" Sarah's flustered state was clearly making her speak out of turn, but Diana did not mind. She _did_ , however, hesitate at her maid's words. She had never allowed herself to think on it, not really, but Sarah was right. Richard had never tried to kiss her and, other than the occasional flirtatious remark, he had never been improper with her when they were alone. She had always appreciated it, of course, because she was naturally conservative and reserved when it came to physical intimacy, and it was just one of those things he had always understood about her without having to ask. But was that _odd_? She had never considered it so, until now.

"I assure you, Sarah, nothing untoward has happened in all those meetings," said Diana finally. "That is not the point, however. Did you not want John to kiss you?"

"I don't know!"

Diana huffed. "Do you like him?"

"Yes!"

"Do you think he is serious about courting you?"

"Yes. He has made that clear," mumbled Sarah.

"Then what on earth is the matter?"

"I don't know!"

Diana sighed and continued to pat Sarah's back soothingly. Five minutes later, the girl had collected herself enough to peek up at her mistress through her fingers and throw her an embarrassed smile. Diana raised her eyebrows. "Better?"

"Sorry, mum," she mumbled, straightening up and tucking her hair back under her cap. "I was just…" she trailed off and gestured helplessly towards the door.

"Nothing has to happen if you do not want it to, Sarah," said Diana reassuringly. "You know you will always have a place with me, married or not, but if you choose to get married and move away that is quite alright as well. But you _do_ need to keep calm and think on it clearly."

Sarah nodded and excused herself, muttering something about checking up on the luggage. Diana barely had time to muse on her eventful morning when she heard a carriage draw up and the entire Fitzwilliam party entered her sitting-room.

There was a flurry of excitement and greetings – hugs were given, children exchanged hands, and Lady Fitzwilliam fretted over who was to sit in which carriage and which one was to lead. Half an hour of non-stop chattering later, Diana was ushered into a carriage with Richard, the viscount and Emily, while the earl and his wife took the children to their own carriage for the first leg of the journey. They would make two stops, once to rest the horses and then again to spend the night, and reach Fitzwilliam Manor by evening the next day.

The carriage ride itself was enjoyable, at least for the first few hours. Henry and Richard discussed Pemberley, and whether or not Darcy would hold the annual Boxing Day hunt that had been done in his parent's time. Diana and Emily chatted about the latest fashions, and all the new dresses Emily had purchased to take for Georgiana and Elizabeth, to allow the former to get used to the attention that would be upon her when she came out into society in a few months. Diana told her the story of John and Sarah's romance, which seemed to delight Emily greatly.

"Oh, that is just adorable," she squealed. "I never would have guessed. You're a clever one, to make sure he's joining us for Christmas this year!"

"I needed a footman and he is the most reliable one I have," Diana defended her actions, but she was laughing as well. There had been a part of her that had certainly brought John along because of Sarah's fondness for him, but she would never admit it.

"Has Diana been match-making again?" asked Henry curiously, interjecting their conversation. The two women laughed, and Diana saw Richard look at her in amusement from the corner of her eye, as if her good mood surprised him. But he was pleased, she knew that – their hands brushed more often than not, and when the chatter in the carriage finally quieted down she saw him turn in his seat to look at her, still smiling.

"Must you?" she asked finally, looking up from the book she had opened and throwing him a bemused look.

Richard chuckled. "The view inside is more pleasing than the one outside."

"How wonderful to know I am better looking than the dirt roads outside of London," said Diana, rolling her eyes but smiling nonetheless at his compliment.

"Some people find that sort of thing pretty, you know."

"And I am just pretty, then, am I?"

"I would never insult you by referring to you in such simple terms, my love."

"Charmer."

He laughed again. Diana returned to her book, but within a few hours her eyes began to feel heavy. Sleep had not been her friend of late, since Richard still insisted on visiting in the morning – his ability to be wide-awake at all hours was annoying, to say the least – and a moving carriage always made her sleepy. Had they been intent on travelling for longer, she was sure she would have nodded off against his shoulder; he _was_ sitting as close as he could in polite company, after all. However, they stopped to rest the horses soon after, and Henry and Emily descended the carriage to go see their children.

Diana stifled a yawn behind her hand. "I may fall asleep soon," she confessed to Richard, who had made no move to leave the carriage. She noticed. "You do not want to stretch your legs?"

Richard shrugged. "I'd rather stay."

Diana bit her lip. "Is that wise?"

"The door is open," he pointed out.

She sat back, appeased. And then, Sarah's words from that morning floated back into her mind, and Diana unwillingly blushed a vibrant shade of red. No wonder her maid thought she had done so many improper things; she was _always_ alone with Richard. She did not want to give that up, though, not yet. Even if they were not speaking, having him near her was reassuring.

However, he noticed her blush. "What is it?" he asked curiously. Diana shook her head and busied herself with her book, flipping through the pages as if she had lost her place. She heard him chuckle. "I hope this dark carriage and the fact that we are quite alone is not giving you any ideas, my love."

He was teasing her, she knew that, but she could not help but blush even harder at the implication, because she _was_ thinking that. She had been kissed before, of course, she had been married for eight years, but with Richard it was different. She loved him, and he loved her, but the idea of _showing_ him how much she loved him in the physical sense made her blush, sweat and tremble all at once. She mumbled something at his questioning look, but was saved from further embarrassment when Lady Fitzwilliam entered the carriage with Emily and the children, shooing Richard out and telling him to go and spend the rest of the journey with the men, until they reached the inn where they were to spend the night.

Little Henry was dozing against Emily's shoulder, and Margaret had not stirred since they restarted their journey. Diana found it quite easy to be lulled to sleep by the smooth movements of the carriage, and the quiet murmur of voices of the two other women as they discussed what needed to be done on the estate over Christmas.

She was abruptly awoken from a peaceful dream when she felt someone caress her cheek. Her eyes snapped open, only to see Richard seated next to her, his hand resting against her face.

"Good evening," he smiled, his fingers catching a curl that had come out of her bun to tug on it playfully. "Did you sleep well?"

"I didn't realize I slept for so long," Diana smiled sleepily, her brain still fuzzy, but sat up and tucked her hair behind her ears nevertheless. "Where are we?"

"At the inn. Everyone's already inside, I told them to let you sleep until your room was ready."

"Thank you," Diana stifled a yawn behind her hand, turning pink at Richard's quiet chuckle. "We should go."

"We have a few precious minutes before someone gets suspicious," Richard held her arm, his grip gentle but firm enough to ensure she would not move. "Won't you tell me what is bothering you, my love?"

"Nothing is bothering me," lied Diana. The endearment made her heart skip a beat.

"You are lying to me."

"That is not a very polite thing to accuse one of."

"I have never been a very polite man," Richard's eyes narrowed. "Diana, tell me."

"It's nothing," she insisted, but there was a panicked edge to her voice now.

Richard blinked in surprise at her tone, but something about her expression prompted him to ask, slowly, "If it is something I should be worried about, you will tell me?"

"It isn't. And yes, of course I would, if it were," Diana nodded, even though she knew once she _did_ tell him what was bothering her – because she would, she had learned that keeping secrets was bad for the two of them – he would immediately make it clear that he would have wanted to know earlier.

"Very well," Richard gave her one last look before preceding her out of the carriage and helping her down, his frown fading into a smile when she stumbled slightly on the steps. "Tired?"

"Exhausted," sighed Diana.

"We will try to get you to your room as soon as possible, then."

"No rush," Diana shrugged. "I can never sleep well in new places."

Richard hummed in response, but something about the curve of his mouth made Diana raise her eyebrows and throw him an expectant look. He smirked. "You will not like what I have to say."

"I will judge that for himself."

"If you insist. I was merely thinking I can imagine one place you would sleep quite well."

"And where is that?"

"With me, of course."

Diana stopped walking, gaping up at him. His words were horribly inappropriate, and the wicked smile on his face said that he _knew_ that, and he was enjoying her reaction to his statement. He winked and opened the door to the inn, ushering her into the warm room and forcing her to replace the gobsmacked look on her face with a much more pleasant expression. Oh, he was clever.

* * *

 **Hallo, again! Look at me, prompt updates and all. I should get a medal. Or oodles of reviews, whichever one you guys prefer (I prefer reviews, but hey, nobody asked. Hehehe).**

 **I am in an excellent mood as I type this, so I can't quite focus on what to say. However, many thanks to (as always):**

 **Gaskellian: The perfect man, indeed! He's so dreamy, don't you just wish he was real?**

 **Christinebj: Thank you for all the love, glad you liked the chapter!**

 **Mpf2741: Thank you! And not to worry, I won't rest until these characters are absolutely done with!**

 **catelyntully11: Welcome to the story! I'm so very glad you liked it enough to leave a review and finish it in a day, I hope this new chapter assures you that I'm quite a good updater as well. Very grateful for your wonderful comments, thank you so very much!**

 **MissThang22700: Ooooh, dragon lady is an excellent name for her. You may find that incorporated into the story at one point - full credit to you, of course! I'm so glad you're on Diana's side, I don't want to reveal anything with regards to kids and her marriage to Richard but I think that's one plot point that I've decided to handle quite well, if I do say so myself. Nevertheless your comments are very much appreciated, thank you for your kind words!**

 **Contrari Mari: Ah, hello to you again my favourite reviewer! So very glad your hatred for Mina has not diminished and yet you have some to spare for Janet, I was wondering how you would react to her. I'm pleased that you enjoyed Richard's response - I was debating on letting Diana handle it, but I didn't want to give off the impression that Richard is stupid when it comes to such things - he simply chooses to let the women handle them, since they're so good at it.  
Your character sketch of Rose is perfect - that's exactly how I think of her, though perhaps in my head she's more harmless and silly than how I write her. Think, less Caroline and more Lydia, perhaps? And yes, I loved adding the side story, I can't imagine a Regency mother being okay with two lovestruck sons, I imagine she would have put them all to the test more times than they realized.  
Your comments continue to delight, as always, and I'm so glad the story works similarly for you. Can't wait to read what you think of this chapter!**

 **That's all for now, folks. Let me know what their first day at Fitzwilliam Manor should be like - I haven't thought this next chapter through! See you soon, much love xx**


	35. Chapter 35

_Diana,_

 _I have arrived safely and received the letter you had sent ahead for me. I call it a letter since it was addressed "Dear Mother" and signed "Love, Diana", but it was more of a set of instructions that you may as well have sent a steward._

 _However, I will answer the few questions you were kind enough to ask of me. Yes, I am well, yes, the maid has been duly notified that she will not be getting Christmas off and will have to wait until Easter for her holidays, and yes, your cousin is well. He sends his regards and congratulations on your engagement – the short letter from his wife is attached._

 _The estate is running smoothly. Rupert has been doing a fine job ensuring we do not fall into debt again. Then again, the hefty sum Charles paid him upon your marriage was enough to buy his loyalty for life, I am sure. I do not expect that you will be able to continue the annual amount, but I am sure you and Richard have thoroughly discussed this, and all your other financial obligations that Charles bore for you. Take the Smiths, for example: you promised to put all their girls through school, and as of yet only two out of the six are studying. Nevertheless, I am sure you are on top of things._

 _I will send you a detailed report of all works to be done, the harvests, and the costs of any repairs that Rupert feels may require your attention. Feel free to pass that letter on to Richard, I am sure he will have a head for that sort of thing. Even if he does not, he will understand it better than you._

 _Give Alexandra my love._

 _Yours, etc._

Diana put the letter down slowly, keeping her eyes fixed on her plate as she picked at the remains of her breakfast. Opposite her, Henry was watching her carefully, but she pretended not to notice and stuffed her mother's letter out of sight, inspecting the short, formal note of congratulations her cousin's wife had penned. Diana almost felt sorry for her, having to live with her mother for the foreseeable future, but not sorry enough to take the woman off her hands. The tone of the letter had been quite clear: Mina was _not_ happy about her situation.

"I hope you are not too tired from your journey," said Henry finally, breaking the short silence that had fallen when Diana had begun to read her letter. She shook her head silently, still lost in thought, and so he continued, "Richard and I were going to ride around the estate today and check on a few tenants, perhaps visit town as well. Emily always joins us at this time of year. Would you like to come as well? They ought to get to know you."

"That would be lovely," said Diana, smiling at the thoughtful gesture. She had never been around the Fitzwilliam estate, but she knew it was quite expansive. Though miniscule in comparison to Pemberley and Rosings, it was excellently managed and quite profitable as well.

"Does that son of mine plan to join us for breakfast?" asked Lady Fitzwilliam, clicking her tongue impatiently and exchanging a look with the footman, who shrugged a shoulder.

"He went riding, mamma," said Henry calmly.

"Yes, but that was _hours_ ago. And Diana is here! Why would he want to ride out so early in the day?"

Diana giggled. Henry rolled his eyes. "She will be here for quite some time, and Richard enjoys his morning rides."

"It does not bother me," added Diana. "Come, my lady, I would very much like to see the parlour that you redid this summer, Emily has told me so much about it."

Lady Fitzwilliam perked up at the mention of her latest decorating venture, and Diana threw a wink at a chuckling Henry and the earl before linking her arm with her future mother-in-law and leaving the breakfast-room.

If the rest of her days were to be spent like this, they would be quite enjoyable, mused Diana as she listened to Lady Fitzwilliam's detailed descriptions of the drapes, carpets, upholstery etc. once they had settled into the airy room. Breakfasting with the Fitzwilliams, spending her mornings with Richard's mother, her afternoons with him and his brother, her evenings with his niece and nephew… it was a quaint, idyllic world she imagined for herself, and one she fervently hoped she would get to experience with him, soon.

"Are you alright, dear?" Diana blinked, shaking her head slightly to clear it and smiling apologetically at the woman opposite her, who merely patted her hand reassuringly. "Thinking too much?"

"Not too much," Diana tucked her hair behind her ears, ignoring the curl that fell across her forehead messily – Sarah had given up on the tight chignons and had started opting for much freer hairstyles in the past few days. Diana had thought to object, but Richard had tugged on her loose curls on more than one occasion, his eyes glinting with mischievous affection, and she had decided to say nothing.

"I hope you will like it here," said Lady Fitzwilliam quietly. "After your marriage, I mean."

Diana bit her lip. "Your home is beautiful, my lady, but Richard and I have not decided where to live after we are married," her mother's words flitted through her mind, and she sighed. "We have decided on very little, I am afraid."

"There is plenty of time for it all, my dear. Your engagement will be long," sighed Lady Fitzwilliam. "I wish there was something we could do. I have no desire for him to leave."

"He will come back."

"I pray he will."

They lapsed into silence, the topic dampening their spirits. However, light footsteps were soon heard and little Henry came running in, loudly demanding Aunty Diana's full attention while the nurse stood by the door helplessly, cringing in fear at the expected annoyance the great lady would express. Instead, to her astonishment and that of the maids – who were told the entire story at dinner the same evening while Sarah sat in a corner and smirked knowingly – Lady Diana Herbert sat down on the carpeted floor of her hostess' second-best parlour and spent over two hours playing with the young master, not paying the slightest bit of attention to Lady Fitzwilliam's bemused looks or the condition of her perfect starched, silk dress, which was soon crinkled within an inch of its life and supporting a large stain that smelled suspiciously like the juice the young master often spilled more than he managed to drink.

 **!**

"- the Turners are by the brook, and the Rogers family is just up the hill," Henry nodded at the end of his speech, and then frowned at Diana's look of utter confusion. "I did tell you to write this down."

Diana blinked. "Yes, Henry, you did. I did not think you were serious."

Emily chuckled. "There are quite a few tenants, Diana. These are just the ones closest to the house, so we'll be able to see them today easily."

"If Richard ever gets here," muttered Henry moodily. His brother's absence seemed to bother him extensively, though Diana was at a loss as to why. According to Emily, it was not odd for Richard to ride out in the morning and stay out until dinner.

"He'll be here," said Emily confidently. "He never misses the visits."

Henry grunted, but did not reply. Richard had gone riding in the morning and sent a famer's boy back to say he would return late, but in enough time to visit the tenants in the afternoon. Diana had bit her tongue and remained expressionless while the news was delivered, but Emily was indignant enough for her. The fact that it was her first day in his home and he was not there to spend it with her had confused Emily more than it had Diana, but she had allowed her friend to rant on about his irresponsibility for a few minutes, knowing it would pass eventually. She did not doubt his affection, or question his actions, but she knew better than most that he was a poor decision-maker. They were all on horseback now, waiting for him to arrive so they could set out.

Eventually, horse's hooves were heard and Richard came into sight. "What a merry party!" his voice was cheerful as his horse cantered towards them, his own face set in a wide grin. "Why, even Henry looks excited today!"

"Hardly," replied Henry dryly. "You are late."

"I had an errand to run," said Richard, his smile never wavering as his horse came to a stop near Diana's borrowed mount. She automatically gave him her hand, and he pressed it affectionately. "I am sorry," his voice was quieter, the tone less cheery and more affectionate when he spoke to her. "I did not plan to make you spend your morning alone, I assure you."

Diana rolled her eyes, but she was inwardly pleased at his attempt to apologize. The old Richard would have simply expected her to _know_ he was apologetic. "You had plans, then?" she asked, one eyebrow raised in mock-disbelief.

"Of course I did."

"Forgive me if I do not believe you."

"Would you believe me if I told you my plans?"

"Perhaps."

"I shall one day, my love. For now, if I say them too loudly I am afraid our chaperones may find a reason to separate us immediately," he winked, and Diana blushed, which seemed to amuse him. "Shall we go on?" he asked in his normal voice, turning to face the other couple who had been attempting not to notice the slight breach of propriety. Emily was smiling, but Henry looked faintly annoyed.

"Yes, let's go on," he said hurriedly, jerking his horse forward. "Richard, a word?"

Richard obliged his brother by urging his horse ahead so they were level, while Emily carefully steered her mare back so she was riding alongside Diana. She smirked. "You seem flustered."

Diana shrugged helplessly, but did not speak. Every time he said something even faintly inappropriate or more flirtatious than usual, she became a bundle of nerves and turned five different shades of pink before he would be done speaking. While it seemed to amuse him to no end, it annoyed her.

"I am worried about the ride, that's all," she said finally. Emily nodded, but her smile said she did not believe her. Diana did not have the courage to explain herself, so they rode to the first cottage in silence.

 **!**

"She was a hit with the tenants, as I expected," Henry raised his cup of tea to his future sister-in-law, who laughed at his continued compliments, but blushed prettily nevertheless. Diana _had_ been a hit, and she knew it. And she was grateful for it. As happy as the families had been to see the viscount and his wife, she had seen genuine affection in the eyes of the old wives when Richard had entered their humble cottages, his eyes twinkling and his quick wit ready with a joke or two to lighten the mood immediately. Upon her introduction as his fiancé, she could see the tenants automatically drift towards her. For practical matters, they would address Henry and Emily, but Richard had been playing the role of the confidant of many of the families for years – he knew their debts, how holes would come into the cottage roofs by Christmas, and how many puppies were in the latest litter. More than one little boy had thrown him looks of adoration, and Diana tried to ignore the stabbing feeling in her heart every time she saw him draw his arms around a child, but it was difficult.

"You seem lost," Richard's hand touched her arm gently, drawing her out of her reverie. "What is it?"

"Nothing," Diana shook her head and gave him a smile, to which he only frowned in suspicion. She rolled her eyes. "Stop that."

Richard did not rise to her teasing. His eyes narrowed. "You have been acting odd."

 _Oh, no._ "That's rather rude, isn't it?"

"Its rather _true_ , is what it is. Are you ever going to tell me what is the matter?"

Diana bit her lip. "I told you, if it truly mattered I would tell you."

Richard did not look convinced. Fortunately, Diana was saved from further interrogation when Emily suddenly demanded all of her attention.

"You can play the waltz, can you not, Diana?" she demanded from across the room, evidently in the middle of some debate with Lady Fitzwilliam.

Diana hesitated, but nodded. "Play a few bars for us, dear," said Lady Fitzwilliam, indicating the piano in the corner of the room. "Emily _insists_ that the dance is not nearly so scandalous as made out to be by the women who have seen it done, but I disagree."

"It isn't all bad, but I have never danced it myself," said Diana. She obediently made her way to the instrument, and Richard followed dutifully to find the sheet music his sister-in-law required to be played.

"There, you see, Emily?" Lady Fitzwilliam sounded triumphant. " _Respectable_ young women do not engage in such modern, frank dances."

"It has nothing to do with that, your ladyship," said Diana absently, flipping through some of the music Richard had scattered across the table near the piano in an effort to locate the correct piece. "I simply never learned. I saw it done at a ball for some foreign dignitaries, and only two English couples danced it at the time."

"Emily wants to dance it at the Darcys' winter ball," said Richard quietly, handing her the correct piece and gesturing for her to be seated at the instrument. "They've been arguing about it for months."

Diana giggled. "Shouldn't they ask Darcy, or Elizabeth, or even Georgiana?"

"Henry tried to mention that to them. Nearly got his head bitten off."

Diana laughed again before beginning to play the song effortlessly. She was no excellent player, of course, but her skills in music were quite a few steps beyond ordinary, and just short of spectacular. Her singing voice, of course, was another matter altogether. Richard could vividly remember the long nights they had both been stuck at stuffy dinner parties with their mothers, when the highlight would be Diana's performance, always at the end of the night so the guests knew something good was coming and no one dared to leave early. She had always received a standing ovation, and calls for _one_ more song at least a dozen times before her blushing countenance would prompt someone to kindly allow her to excuse herself.

"It's quite a pretty song, actually," said Diana a few minutes in, the arguing voices of Richard's relatives fading into the background. "A pity the dance is considered so shocking. I would have loved to learn it."

"You still can," said Richard, only half-listening, too focused on turning pages.

"Hardly. It would be horribly inappropriate to dance it with someone other than your husband."

"I suppose you will have to wait until you are married to learn then," said Richard in mock-sympathy.

Diana's eyes twinkled. "Oh, yes. Wherever will I find a man foolish enough to marry me so I may learn to waltz?"

"If you have no other candidates, my lady, I would be glad to offer my services."

"You are too kind, sir."

"I owe my country a service, after all."

"Perhaps I ought to learn to play it better before we start planning a wedding."

"You play like an angel."

"Wrong," the song ended and Diana removed her hands from the instrument, but remained seated. She threw him an arched look. "I _sing_ like an angel, darling. I play like a baboon."

Richard snorted. "Interesting choice of words."

"You do not deny it."

"One cannot be good at everything, my love."

" _You_ are."

"Not true. I am hopeless at proposals."

Diana laughed. "I should think that is because you have not had much practice."

"Indeed," Richard sniffed. Diana knew he was enjoying it. Flirting with him had gotten _so_ much more enjoyable after their engagement, even if it did make her blush like a schoolgirl every time. "By that logic," he continued, picking up a random piece of music and flipping through it casually. "Are you suggesting your performances could improve by practicing?"

"So your Aunt Catherine says," quipped Diana, remembering the many stories both Richard and Elizabeth had told her of Lady Catherine's insistence that practice did, indeed, make one perfect.

Richard shuddered. "Let's avoid all mention of her and her advice, shall we?"

"Gladly."

"Yet, the practice point is valid. Here," he set the music he had been looking at in front of her, and Diana recognized it as a piece that she was, somewhat, familiar with, though not even close to proficient at. "I am interested to see how you fare with that."

"Do you enjoy my struggles?" asked Diana teasingly, nevertheless settling into the rhythm of the song, albeit with some difficulty.

"Not at all. I am merely using it to prove a point."

"And what point is that?"

"That you should use your time at Fitzwilliam Manor to practice, of course."

Diana rolled her eyes, pausing in her song to rearrange the pages. As the music stopped, they heard Emily and Lady Alexandra's voices drift towards them, in the middle of a heated argument. Richard groaned and Diana hurriedly began playing before either woman could ask her opinion on whatever they were discussing. "You believe I need practice?" she asked, ignoring the argument in the background.

"We both _know_ you need practice."

"How rude."

"It is merely honesty. You could use the pianoforte here. Hardly anyone comes in before supper."

Diana laughed. "The servants are in and out constantly, and the door is only closed before the scullery-maids wake up. What would you have me do, wake up at dawn to practice?"

Richard was quiet for a moment. Then – "And why not?"

Diana looked up at him in confusion for a second, before the music demanded her attention again. "I do not follow," she said finally. "What is the point of me practicing at _dawn?"_

"Well, you said it yourself," Richard shrugged, but the casual demeanour was forced. Diana's eyes narrowed. He was hiding something from her. "You would like to play, and early morning is the ideal time. Plus, the living-areas are on the other side of the house, you would not be disturbing anyone."

"I fail to understand your sudden desire to see me an accomplished musician."

Richard hesitated. "It is more of a desire to merely _see_ you," he said finally. Diana missed a note at his words, but was able to cover it up and resume playing before anyone noticed. She threw him a look, but he indicated that she should wait and spoke quickly. "It is not so very inappropriate, is it?"

"Visiting me at all hours of the morning is one thing, Richard, but while living under the same roof if we are caught unchaperoned –"

"We would never be caught, the servants are all discreet. And we will be doing nothing wrong!" he added hastily.

"Of course not!" the dreaded blush was back, and there was no way to hide it now. He had seen it, and the shift in his posture told her he had pieced it together. Diana felt his hand brush against her shoulder, and then pull at her arm to make her stop playing. "Stop that," she hissed.

"Do not tell me your refusal has more to do with a fear of being alone with me than it has to do with what is _proper_ , Diana," his tone was gruff, but he let go of her hands and she resumed playing, conscious of how many mistakes she was making now.

"It has nothing to do with any of that, Richard."

"I do not believe you. Is this way you have been acting so odd?"

He seemed intent on crossing a line she had no intention of allowing him to pass before she was officially his wife. Diana Herbert had her secrets, and her thoughts on intimacy were one of the many things she kept hidden. "That's enough playing, I think," she said crisply. The music stopped, she stood up from her seat and went to re-join the other two women who, fortunately, had not noticed the argument. Richard did not follow her.

* * *

 **Hello, my lovelies!**

 **I have no excuse. What could I possible say, except that I have JUST restarted uni, its week 2 and suddenly I'm behind on reading... How did that even happen?**

 **I won't bore you with details, I just hope you're all still here and willing to put up with my delays to enjoy this story. Loads of fun stuff in this chapter, I hope you can all see where I'm going with this. If you cant, I have a hint: the next chapter involves a practice session that is abruptly cut short.**

 **On to reviewers! I have neglected you all of late, but many thanks to all of you, and I hope you're still reading!**

 **thpeaky: You and me, both! And I'm back, not to worry!**

 **catelyntully11: Soon!**

 **LookingAnswers: They're absolutely adorable, I know.**

 **MissThang22700: I'm so glad you like that about her! More happiness to come soon, I promise.**

 **Mpf2741: I really am a romantic at heart, that is so true! ED coming up soon, enjoy RD for now!**

 **Gaskellian: Might happen sooner than you think ;)**

 **Jasnfamily4: He really does deserve to be a hero, doesn't he? Glad you're enjoying it!**

 **Deanna27: More to come soon!**

 **LovePP: I don't know about carefree, but it will be an eventful holiday, for sure! Hope you enjoy this chapter!**

 **Guest (I am assuming this is Contrari Mari!): I'm so glad you think this story is real, one of my pet peeves is a romance that borders on unbelievable - I worked really hard to make sure everything that happens to these characters is at least 70% realistic, and the other 30% is stuff I wish could happen in my non-existent love life! Sarah is indeed a safety valve, I love writing her because she is the realest character I have, faults and all, and she allows Diana to see things from a perspective I doubt she would consider otherwise (even if I was writing her!).  
And speaking of swearing... Somehow, I believe you! If you see a character in this story soon with a sailor's mouth, killer wit and a love for romance, I can assure you that you may take full credit for her creation!  
I hope that my ending isn't obvious or predictable, but you never know! The guesses that people sometimes leave in reviews are infuriating, because my big plot point is no longer a secret, but I'm hoping that for some people the novelty remains. As always, I love reading your reviews and I'm dying to hear your opinions on this chapter!**

 **Thats all for now, guys. Thank you so much for sticking by me, I promise to keep to the once-a-week schedule from now on, but uni is tough! Anyway, until next time. Much love xx**


	36. Chapter 36

Diana could not sleep.

It was ridiculous for her to feel guilty, because there was no reason why she should. By all standards, she had done the right thing by shutting down Richard's idea of an early morning tryst. It was impractical and inappropriate and impossible, and her reputation had been too carefully cultivated _after he had left her_ to be spoiled now.

And yet… she sighed and tossed and turned, unable to calm her thoughts. He had not meant it the way she had deliberately construed it, she was aware of that. His actions since their engagement had been forward, of course, but nothing scandalous. Sarah, her unmarried and naïve maid, had had more interesting things happen to her than Diana had, at least in the department of intimacy and romance. Had she agreed to meet him, he would be right, they would be doing nothing _wrong:_ she knew Richard would not kiss her, or even touch her save for holding her hand, or perhaps embrace her if she allowed him to. All in all, he had been the perfect gentleman since their engagement, and try as she might, even though she was _dying_ for him to be slightly more frank with her, she could not bring herself to do it.

It had nothing to do with a moral compass. Diana knew her feelings perfectly well, and she knew Richard's probably better than he knew them himself. She did not shy away from physical intimacy because it would be inappropriate to indulge in it before her marriage. Whatever society and her family thought of her was different, and exactly what she wanted them to think. She wanted to protect her reputation, of course, but more than that, she wanted to protect _herself._ She stayed away because she had no idea if he wanted her in that way at all, indeed if he would even want her after they were married since she could not have children. Would they not be able to be husband and wife, in the traditional and conventional sense? Would they stay this way, as companions and nothing more? Diana could not say the idea was altogether displeasing, but it did make her flinch. Would he, _could_ he, do that to her?

All she wanted was reassurance, the ability to know that he was there and that he loved her, and that, on a very superficial level, he found her pleasing. She knew he loved her mind – he had told her that often enough, and it was their quick wits that made them such an excellent match, after all, but as to whether he thought her beautiful enough to find her irresistible… well, she had never asked, and he had never told her.

"How idiotic," she sighed quietly. Saying the words out loud showed her how right they were. They _were_ being idiotic. She was going to marry him – he would know all her secrets, even more than he did already, and he would not be able to leave her after he knew. She would know every thought he had ever had, she intended to make sure of that. What difference did a few months make, when a relationship as important as marriage required time to deepen it? Did it matter that they were not married yet, and she should not be discussing certain things with him? When was she supposed to discuss them, then, on her wedding-night? When she had no idea what to expect?

It would not do. Mind made up, Diana leapt out of bed and grabbed the dress Sarah had left out for her to wear the next day. She dressed hurriedly, and threw her messy braided hair up into a bun, preserving some semblance of decency. She grabbed a shawl and opened her door quietly, hesitating for only a second before creeping out and making her way out of the family wing, towards the sitting-room they had been in a few hours previously.

It was not until she was seated at the pianoforte, her fingers hovering above the keys, that she realized there was a box lying on top of it. A small box, made of black velvet, the kind that held jewellery. It was sitting there, innocently, and Diana knew immediately it was for her. She snatched it up immediately and flipped it open, a soft gasp escaping her mouth when she saw what was inside.

The jewellery her deceased husband had given her had always been beautiful and expensive, but it had lacked something that Diana had always noticed, but never voiced: she had always felt as if he had gone and bought the grandest piece he could find, rather than something _she_ would like. Richard was not like that. Other than the fact that he obviously could not afford to purchase whatever he wished to from the jewellers, he seemed particularly careful with his gifts – even the flowers he gave her were always her favourites, even if they were not the most conventional or expensive ones. The rose gold earrings she was looking at now, the ones that seemed to perfectly match her engagement ring, now _these_ were certainly expensive. She should have protested at such a lavish gift, and yet she knew immediately she would not want to return them. These were _hers_. There was a card as well, written in his untidy hand.

 _I did not wish to cause you undue distress. I only wanted to give these to you in person._

 _RF_

 **!**

"The green brocade tonight, mum," Sarah stated more than asked, by now used to the fact that Diana rarely disagreed with her choices. She held out the dress for her mistress to take and absently began to scour the cupboard with her eyes, looking for a matching pair of shoes.

Diana shook her head. "No, dear, the blue silk."

Sarah blinked and tore her eyes away from the cream-coloured satin slippers. "Blue silk?"

"Yes, one of the new ones," Diana picked up a lace sash from the pile of accessories on her bed and rested it against her arm, examining the colour critically. "And get these freshened up, please, they are going to make me look pale."

"You never wear the blue silk," said Sarah in confusion, taking the sash and clutching the green dress helplessly. "Why, I had to force you to get that dress made! It needs to be ironed and checked for mending, and what if it does not fit, and –"

"It's alright, Sarah, I can be late to one dinner party if I need to be," interrupted Diana soothingly. She reached into the cupboard and took out the dress in question, swapping it for the one in Sarah's now-limp hands and ushering her out the door. "See to its ironing and make sure you do not burn it. I will make my own hair today."

"But, mum–!"

"Goodbye!" Diana closed the door firmly, waited until she heard Sarah sigh and hurry away, before leaning back against the door and groaning quietly. The day had been an absolute mess, one after the other. After her discovery of Richard's present the night before, she had almost run up to his room to speak to him, but had thought better of it. The fact that he had known she would come anyway and had left the box there rather than waiting for her told her that, while he had clearly understood that her slight paranoia had less to do with him and more to do with herself, he was unwilling to discuss it. It stung, but Diana knew it was a conversation that needed to happen, preferably in a setting where neither of them could scream at each other.

She had deliberately decided to wear the blue dress, knowing it would match the earrings she planned to wear. Sarah did not know about them, not yet: as understanding as she was, Diana did not want to alert her to the fact that she was even considering meeting Richard outside of the perimeters that society allowed. Sighing, she sat down at her dressing-table and began to work on her hair.

One hour later, when Sarah had finished fretting over her clothes and her jewels were carefully in place – Sarah had raised her eyebrows, but had not commented on the appearance of the earrings – she was ready to go downstairs, only marginally late. If circumstances were normal, she would have expected Richard to be waiting for her at the stairs to escort her inside. However, the hallway was pointedly empty, and Diana bit her lip before adjusting the plain gold string she wore around her neck and plastering a smile onto her face as she entered the drawing-room.

She was surrounded by acquaintances immediately, men and women swarming around her with congratulations and curiosity. She beat them all off with practiced ease, agreed to hold a dance each for two of Richard's cousins from his mother's side, and was just escaping towards the familiar face of Rosalind Bertram when her brother-in-law to-be stepped into her path.

Diana greeted him automatically, slightly confused at the determined look in her eyes but smiling nonetheless. Henry returned her smile and kissed her hand, tucking it into the crook of his arm and spinning her around to introduce her to a lord and his wife that she had never met before. Diana allowed herself to be led around for a few minutes, and then she began to tire. "You are distracting me," she said finally, keeping her voice low as they excused themselves from another couple and finally made their way to another part of the room, where Emily was now speaking to Rose. "What is it?"

"You are too clever for your own good, my dear sister," answered Henry. His expression was amused, but slightly forced.

"I am not your sister yet, Henry."

"As good as," Henry shrugged. "I am merely acting on orders. Richard instructed that we leave you alone tonight for as little time as possible, considering the attitude of Aunt Carmichael the last time there was a gathering."

Diana raised an eyebrow. "And he could not extend his services to me himself?"

"You've had a row with him, we all know he won't come to you," said Emily, appearing suddenly at her elbow and taking her arm. Henry promptly relinquished Diana and bowed to both women before turning to leave. "Come, we should sit."

"I am not a sheep that needs to be led about, Emily, and it is highly insulting that you all would think I need guidance," said Diana sharply. She ignored the look of hurt on Emily's face. "I have been out in society for as long as you, and I know how to deal with women like your aunt who disapprove of my engagement to Richard. If he wants to keep me away from the opinions of old women, he is welcome to do so himself, but I will not be shielded from everyone in this room by everyone _except_ him. Excuse me."

She dropped her arm and walked off, her head held high. On the surface, she looked completely calm as she accepted a drink from one of the footmen, but inside she was reeling with anger and hurt. To say that Richard's absence from the room itself was insulting would be an understatement – it was an accepted fact that they, being a newly-engaged couple, would be seen together at all events his family threw from now until they were married, and their conversation the previous night was no excuse for him to abandon her and instruct his brother and sister-in-law to look after her as if she were a debutante.

"You look lovely!" it was Rose. Diana did not smile, but accepted the air-kisses to both cheeks. Rose's beam did not falter. "Oh, and your jewels are divine! An early Christmas present, I assume?"

"Yes," Diana forced herself to speak and smile, and pretended to be highly interested in all the other woman was saying for the next few hours. When dinner was announced, Rose winked at her and flounced off in the direction of her fiancé, who was watching her with both admiration and adoration. Diana stayed where she was, trying to ignore the rushing couples around her as she finished her drink and tried to make her hands stop shaking. Five minutes later, she had given up stalling and was just about to make her way into the dining-room alone when she felt someone tug on a lock of her hair that was artfully swept across her shoulder.

"Waiting for me?" the voice was amused.

Diana did not smile. "I did not think I was."

"You are too kind to let down an old man," Lord Fitzwilliam patted her shoulder and held out his arm, nodding his head towards the doors of the dining-room. "Don't want to be late, now, do we?"

Diana rolled her eyes. "He sent _you_ this time? Your son is ridiculous."

"Aye, he gets that from his mother's side of the family."

"I do not understand why he is doing this."

"Might have something to do with those earrings you've got on," Lord Fitzwilliam smiled knowingly at Diana's sudden blush. "We all make mistakes, Diana. Richard's biggest mistake was letting you go the first time. The boy doesn't realize how much of an effort he needs to be making with you now."

"What I want isn't _effort_ ," Diana sighed. "And I can hardly tell him what I want if he avoids me like the plague."

"He's afraid you'll bite his head off."

"He is simply prolonging the inevitable, then."

Lord Fitzwilliam chuckled. "Oh, you'll be a fine match for him. He'd battle Napoleon himself rather than face you when you're in a temper, he told me that much."

Diana smiled despite herself. "You want me to forgive him."

"I want you both to talk to each other and stop fighting," answered the earl frankly. "I don't pretend to know what it is that has him so afraid and you so annoyed, though I'm inclined to take your side in the matter. But he is going away soon, and I wouldn't want to send away the person I love without hashing out all our problems first. Wouldn't you agree?"

Diana bit her lip and did not answer, but accepted the arm offered to her and allowed herself to be led in to dinner. She took her seat quietly, noting that the one next to her was empty. Deciding not to think who she would have to ward off for the rest of the meal, she turned to Emily, who was on her other side, and squeezed her hand discreetly. Her friend smiled sadly and tucked the ever-present loose curl behind Diana's ear, and all was forgiven.

The empty seat was soon filled by a distant uncle, and the meal began. Diana spoke little and ate even less, her mind too muddled to follow the conversations happening around her. If anyone noticed, they did not comment on it – other than two uncles, Emily, and a cousin she had never met before, there were few people attempting to draw her into speaking, and for that she was grateful. Every time she looked up from her untouched plate, however, Lady Fitzwilliam was watching her with a look of worry on her face, and eventually Diana could not take it.

"Excuse me," she murmured, slipping out of her seat. No one seemed to notice her hasty exit, though she could feel at least two sets of eyes on her as she hurried out of the room. Once out, she hesitated by the door. She could not go upstairs and fake an illness, but she did not want to be surrounded by so many people, at least not yet. The balcony was conspicuously empty, so Diana stepped out into the chilly night air, taking in a deep breath and forcing herself to calm down. There was nothing to be worried about, after all. Richard's pointed absence had more to do with embarrassment than anything else, she was sure of it. His father had not seemed worried, and his mother's looks could simply be interpreted as pitying rather than sorrowful.

If he planned to leave her again, Henry or Emily would have told her. They were the two people who knew Richard almost as well as she did, and she knew they would not stand for his abandoning her, not for a second time. The fact that she was even entertaining the idea of him going away without a word made her feel incredibly guilty, but it was hardly her fault. His actions did not inspire confidence, and if he thought –

"Diana?" Richard's voice made her jump a foot into the air from surprise, and she grasped the railing tightly to avoid tripping. He was at her side in an instant, his hand firmly clasping her elbow and pulling her away, towards the open glass doors. "Why are you outside?" he asked incredulously. "Its freezing."

"I needed air," she bit out, wrenching her arm from his grip and taking a step back so they were not standing so close together. "You would have known that if I had seen you today."

His expression faltered. "I –"

"Oh, yes, what wonderful excuse do you have now?" Diana's tone was bitter. Without waiting for an answer she closed the doors to the balcony with more force than necessary and made her way towards the fire, intent on warming her hands.

Richard followed her. "I should apologize for that, I know."

Diana refused to look at him. "You _should_ do a great many things."

"I did not think you would want to see me, not after what happened last night."

She whirled around to face him, her eyes glinting ferociously. "Did you ask me if I wanted to see you or not?" she demanded. "Did you think to wait for me instead of leaving a box on the piano –"

"– which you clearly appreciated!" protested Richard, gesturing to the jewellery hanging from her ears.

"Because it was a gift from _you_ ," shot back Diana, her tone still furious. "I would love anything you gave me!"

"I know that!"

"Then why were you not there when I came down?"

"You did not want me there!"

"You have no idea what I want!"

"Clearly not, because I thought you wanted me!"

"And what gave you the impression I wanted anyone _but_ you?"

Richard took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair and glancing towards the door of the room, which was still shut, but the sounds of chairs scraping against the floor could be heard – the guests would be coming out soon. "That isn't what I meant."

"If you could enlighten me, then."

Richard shook his head, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "You made it clear you are uncomfortable being alone with me here, though you were fine with it in your own home, in London."

"I never said I was uncomfortable," said Diana, but her tone was less harsh now. His expression was cooling her anger. He looked so… lost.

"Yes, I know, Diana. You never said _anything_."

There was a beat of silence. And then, "Neither did you," she said quietly.

The door opened and cut off their conversation abruptly. Diana turned away pointedly, her gaze fixed on the painting above the fire-place. Moments passed and she felt someone come to stand beside her and saw that Emily was smiling pleasantly, but her eyes were worried. "Henry caught Richard before many people came in," she informed her quietly. "Did you talk?"

"We solved nothing, if that is what you mean," replied Diana, turning away from the fireplace and making a beeline for the seats by the piano, where chances of being overheard were always low.

"Would you like me to speak with him? Or Henry?"

Diana shook her head. "He needs to speak to me, Emily."

"Yes, but perhaps if we pushed him –"

"– then he really is not worth all the trouble I've put myself through," interrupted Diana.

Emily sighed. Despite her reluctance to let the topic drop, Diana managed to steer the conversation to less complicated topics, and they were soon chatting amicably, but quietly. Rose joined them soon after, and by the time the gentlemen re-entered the sitting-room there were already three young ladies lined up to perform on the piano. Rose insisted that Diana play them a song, but her voice had been drowned out easily by the applause that rang out after each performance, and Diana had pointedly ignored her requests.

And then Emily had decided to join in. "We must hear a song from you, Diana," she called out loudly, once Miss Gladstone, the last performer, had finished her piece. "And perhaps Richard could turn pages for you?"

"I don't think –" Diana attempted to protest, but her words were waved off as modesty, and she was steered towards the piano bench and seated in front of him so smoothly by both Emily and Rose that even she, reluctantly, was forced to concede defeat. Avoiding Richard's eye, she began to play. The piece was easy, which meant she did not need to concentrate on it as much as she would have had she picked the music herself. It was clearly a conversation-piece.

Unknowingly, Richard seemed to have read her mind. "It seems Emily is insistent that we talk," he said quietly, a few minutes into her playing.

Diana bit her lip. "It would seem so," she agreed quietly.

Richard sighed. "Diana, I am sorry. I don't know what else to say."

"What are you sorry for?"

"For anything I did that hurt you."

"An interesting apology."

"It's a sincere one."

"Also a very general one."

Richard groaned. "You are being impossible."

"You have avoided me all evening and then you proceeded to shout at me in the drawing-room when we finally crossed paths, by accident no doubt," replied Diana evenly, though there was a tremor in her voice that was more due to anger than sadness. "Am I really the impossible one?"

"What would you like me to say?" he asked, his frustration clear in his tone. "You knew exactly what I meant when I said I wanted to see you alone, and even if you did not know, you came down anyway, you saw the earrings, you _liked_ them. I would never dream of doing or saying anything that could damage your reputation, you know that. I just wanted to be with you, without my entire family breathing down our necks!"

"I do know all of that," replied Diana, her fingers slowing as he turned the page for her roughly. "That is not why I am upset today."

"You are upset because I did not do what I should have done as your fiancé tonight, I know that as well," Diana was impressed that he had not gotten louder by now – he sounded as though he was grinding his teeth to keep from raising his voice. "But you must understand, I thought _you_ would not want to see _me._ For half the night, I assumed you _wanted_ me to stay out of your way."

"First of all, you should ask me what I do and do not want, since I am not accustomed to advertising my desires. Second of all, even if I wanted you close to me for the first half of this night, I assure you I want to be left alone by you _now_."

The song had not ended but Diana stood up, deaf to the slightly confused applause ringing out around her as she smiled stiffly and excused herself from the room, moving towards the balcony. There a few people out now; she spotted Lady Carmichael with a young woman she had yet to be introduced to, along with Henry and one of his friends that she had chanced to meet at a ball a few years ago. The two men bowed to her, and she nodded in return, but chose to lean against the railing a few feet away instead. The cool breeze had yet to turn into a harsh wind, and she enjoyed the low temperature as it allowed her red cheeks to return to their normal colour. She hated fighting with Richard, and she knew there was a touch of overreaction to all her answers, but she could not help it. She could not remember ever feeling so frustrated and confused.

"I can't keep following you out here, you know," and he was back. Diana sighed, but did not move away. He would just come after her again if she did. "People will talk."

"If people are not already talking, I will be impressed," she answered dully, picking at the frozen sleet on the railings.

"Diana," his voice was coaxing, his hand hovering over hers pointedly. "Look at me, please." Reluctantly, she turned her eyes up. He smiled, his expression one of relief. "They suit you."

She touched her ears self-consciously. "They are quite beautiful. And expensive," she added.

Richard shrugged. "Even a poor, second son is allowed his extravagancies."

Despite herself, Diana smiled. "And what is yours?"

"You."

"Pretty words, Richard."

"What would you have me do?" he sighed. "If it was in my power, I would do it."

Diana bit her lip. It must be quite nice to have a man, a strong man to depend on when times were confusing. It must be what married women felt like, after all, even the unhappy ones. Diana supposed she would know what it felt like one day, to have Richard by her side unconditionally no matter how silly her worries or how troublesome her thoughts. Right now, however, at this moment, she had no idea what it was like. Diana had always had only one person she could rely on unconditionally, and that had been herself. Richard had been right all those weeks ago when he had said there was no one he trusted to look after her than herself – there was no one she trusted either, not even him. At least, not yet.

"You are lost again," his voice drew her out of her reverie. Diana blinked and removed her almost frozen fingers from the railing, only to have her hands caught in Richard's. She gave him a pointed, disapproving look, but he did not flinch. "What were you thinking of, just now?"

"Something unhappy," she retorted, extracting her fingers from his grip forcefully. He allowed her to do so, but made no move to walk away. His constant hovering was endearing, but it was giving her a headache because she needed to _think_ and it was impossible to concentrate on anything except him when he was near her.

"Why are you unhappy?" he asked gently, after a lengthy pause. Diana merely sighed, unwilling to engage in a debate she knew neither of them would be pleased with. She felt his fingers touch her hand again, and she did not pull away this time. His hands were much warmer than hers anyway. "You have always been able to talk to me, Diana. What has changed now?"

That did it. The blasted word. _Change._ "Why didn't you kiss me, the day you proposed to me?" she blurted out finally.

Richard paused, his brow furrowing in confusion. " _That_ is why you have been upset?"

His tone immediately made her backtrack. "No," Diana shook her head, then sighed in exasperation. "I cannot explain."

"Try."

"I told you, I don't know," snapped Diana. She turned away from him and made to go inside, but he grabbed her arm, harder than he had ever touched her before, and refused to let her move. Diana turned back to glare at him over her shoulder, but Richard merely raised an eyebrow, his expression perfectly calm. "People are watching," she hissed. Henry and his friend had turned away when their conversation had first begun, a pointed hint at privacy, but Lady Carmichael and her companion, though too far away to discern what was happening in the evening darkness, could pass by at any moment.

"Let them," he said simply. "Talk to me first, and then we will both go back inside."

Diana clamped her mouth shut to avoid screaming in both anger and mortification and returned to her former position against the railing, her posture stiff.

"You did not want to tell me that you were thinking about this, did you?" asked Richard knowingly. His grip on her arm was loose now, but still very much there. Did he actually think she was stupid enough to attempt to run away?

"Maybe," replied Diana, her tone cold. She continued to look out onto the dark grounds. "It would have made no difference either way. I should not even be having this conversation with you."

Richard took one, very pointed step, closer to her, close enough that she could feel his body heat through the fabric of her thin dress – _why was she not feeling cold? –_ and she felt his warm hand, the one that was not anchoring her to the spot, caress her cheek. "If I thought for even one moment that you _wanted_ me to kiss you, my love, I would never let you go," he murmured, his breath tickling her bare neck. "Do you not believe that?"

Diana turned around to face him, ignoring her racing heartbeat, but paused when she caught his eye. Her breath caught in her throat once she realized just _how_ close Richard was, but she pushed aside her feelings and tried to focus on his words. "W-what do you mean?" she managed to stammer, cursing herself for her slip as soon as she saw him smirk in self-satisfaction.

"Which part did you not understand, darling?" he asked, letting go of her arm in favour of grasping her hand. His thumb brushed her knuckles, pointedly stopping at her engagement ring.

Diana would have rolled her eyes if she had the sense of mind to do so at that moment. "Why do you think I do not want you to?"

"Want me to what?" he let go of her hand and squeezed her waist teasingly, his eyes twinkling.

Diana jumped, her cheeks immediately turning red. "Richard," she said warningly.

He chuckled and took a step back. "If you really wanted to, Diana, you would have done it yourself," he said gently. Diana blinked, and he tugged at her hand, kissing the back of it tenderly before looking up at her with that mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "And I plan to wait until you want to as much as I do." He winked.

"You won't be waiting very long then," muttered Diana, more to herself than him, but his quiet laugh told her he had heard. She grimaced. "So you _do_ want to?" she could not help confirming, no longer caring if she was being improper.

"I want _you_ , you silly girl," he entwined their fingers and rested their joint hands against his face, the look of pure adoration never leaving his eyes. "How could I want anything, or anyone, else?"

"It is not impossible," she argued half-heartedly.

Richard shook his head. "There is nothing I want more than you, and I am content to wait until you trust me enough to feel the same."

He spoke so casually that Diana was taken-aback. "I do trust you, Richard."

"No, my love," without breaking eye contact, he offered her his other hand, and for the first time since they had started their conversation he did not have to take it forcefully. He squeezed it, but did not raise it to his lips. His eyes were sad, but his smile was genuine. "I haven't forgotten what I did, and neither have you. Let me earn back your trust. Please."

Diana wanted to refuse. She wanted to scream and cry and stomp her feet, perhaps throw something at him and make him feel as awful as she had felt for years, as awful as she had felt for weeks when she had contemplated how he may never want her in _that_ way, but she could feel her anger melting away at the sincerity that dripped off of his every word. Her moods were giving her whiplash, and it was irksome, to say the least. She wanted to, nay, she knew she _should_ still be angry at him, but it was impossible. As she gazed up at him unblinkingly, reading his face, her heart swelled when she realized he was _letting_ her read him. Richard could hide his emotions with an obnoxious attitude and a quick smile better than any man she had ever known, but he had always let her see through it, and he was doing so now. The small smile, the sad eyes, the gentle grip on her hands… Diana sighed and nodded.

Richard smiled. "And you are no longer angry at me?" despite his expression, there was a hint of genuine concern when he spoke, and his eyes were hesitant.

"No," she sighed. "You make being angry an entirely tiresome thing."

Her words made him laugh. Finally releasing her hands, he gestured towards the balcony-doors. "Now, perhaps we should re-join the company and you can play them a _real_ song?"

"I thought you said I needed more practice," Diana smiled a little as she followed him back into the room, where more than one pair of eyes turned to watch them.

"We have only just made up from a fight, I shall save my critique for another time," he winked and led her to the piano. Once she was seated he bowed slightly and made to back away, but she caught his sleeve before he could.

"Stay with me," was all she said. Richard nodded, his eyes softening immediately, and she turned back to the instrument, focusing all her attention on the song in front of her.

As she began to sing, for the first time in a _very_ long while, Diana did not notice the stares or the whispers, because Richard was standing next to her with his arms folded behind his back smiling at her lovingly, and she realized that now, _finally,_ she could understand why women who had the unconditional love of their husbands were considered to be so lucky.

* * *

 **Here I am, one week (kind of) later as promised! I would have updated sooner but I've sprained my wrist and I have no energy to proof-read this as thoroughly as I normally do, so please do forgive me for any glaring mistakes. I tried to pack loads of things into this as a sorry for being missing for so long before chapter 35, and I really hope its appreciated! So we see at least one of Diana's many issues with Richard has been resolved (kind of) but there are many more to come (kind of) and they're really not as heartbreaking as this one (... kind of).**

 **Anyway, many thanks to the ever-loyal reviewers:**

 **Jansfamily4: I know what you mean, I hope he's a hero again after this chapter and back in your good graces!**

 **Motherof8: That wasn't the inference at all, and I hope this chapter explains it better!**

 **mpf2741: I hope this clears up everything!**

 **LovePP: thank you for the good wishes, I hope I can stay on top of things as well! Do let me know if you enjoyed this chapter!**

 **That's all for now, folks. I hope you enjoy this chapter, I have to say after the proposal scene its one of my absolute favourites. Let me know what you guys think! Until next time, much love xx**


	37. Chapter 37

Life at Fitzwilliam Manor was idyllic and luxurious, two things that Diana was quite used to. She had never wanted for anything in her whole life, and yet it was not until she had officially moved in to a room in the manor, complete with her old desk and some of her paintings, did she realize that something had been missing ever since she could remember. There was a curious warmth in the house, as if it's very halls were welcoming her and attempting to make her comfortable. Certainly, the servants did more than they ought to – Diana suspected it was because of Richard's boyish charm that all the footmen bowed vigorously every time she passed by and the maids continuously asked her if she needed something – and his family was perfect, but the atmosphere itself was almost intoxicating in its pleasantness.

"I could live here forever," she had mused to Sarah only a few days after they had settled in.

"I hope you can, mum," had been her maid's earnest response.

Things with Richard had been going well, ever since that fiasco at the dinner. There had been no more entertaining, and while Lady Fitzwilliam insisted it was because she wanted to prepare for the Darcys' ball, Diana suspected the couple's nearly-discovered rendezvous had made her ladyship decide that, for the time being, it was best if outsiders would not look in on how dysfunctional they could be.

Currently, there was no hint at anything other than normalcy, however. Diana was spending her morning in the nursery with Emily and the children. She had entertained Margaret for a while, but the baby was fussy and prone to start crying as soon as foreign hands touched her, so she had quickly returned her to her mother and taken up vigil by Henry's bed, where the little boy was confined to stay until his bout of sickness passed. The bedclothes were pushed to one side and the little boy was currently propped up on every pillow that could be spared as he scribbled furiously on a paper with a set of pastels that Richard had bought for him as soon as he his fascination with drawing had begun.

"Is this good, Aunty Diana?" little Henry's enthusiasm for his aunt-to-be's approval warmed the hearts of everyone who saw it, and Diana herself was no exception. She smiled and picked up the rather wet paper the little boy had been drawing on, working hard to ensure her face showed the wonder he obviously desired.

"It is excellent, as always," she praised, inwardly hoping he would not ask her _what_ he had made. It had started out as a bird, but he had soon decided to turn it into a dog… with wings. "You are very talented, Henry."

"Will I be as good as you one day?" he asked innocently, peering over her shoulder at the sketch she was making. His mouth fell open in awe. "That looks like Uncle Richard!"

Diana shushed him quickly, tilting the paper to the side so he could stop staring, but it was no use. Emily had heard her, and from her perch at the other end of the nursery, where she was changing Margaret, she came rushing over.

"Let me see it," she demanded, and Diana handed over the unfinished drawing reluctantly. Emily's expression mimicked her son's. "Diana, this is –"

"I really should change for dinner," interrupted Diana, snatching the drawing back and giving Henry a quick kiss on top of his head. "We will draw again tomorrow, my darling. I will see you downstairs, Emily." And she ran out.

In retrospect, there was no reason for her to panic so much, she knew that. And yet, as she clutched the drawing closer to her chest and hurried towards her room, she knew how important this was. She had always loved drawing and painting, but she had never made portraits, despite her masters often saying that she had a knack for it. She knew there was one of her father somewhere with her old things, and she had even made one of Henry and Emily once, before their marriage. There were even idle sketches of Richard's face here and there, but she had never attempted to draw _anyone_ like this. It was not a stoic, posed picture that she often had to compose, it was raw and natural. His expression when he had looked at her that day on the balcony had not left her mind's eye, and she knew the only way to banish it from her every waking thought was to put it on paper, but perhaps the nursery had not been the best place to work on it.

Sarah was not in her room when she entered, and Diana sighed. It was too early to dress for dinner, but now that she was upstairs she knew she might as well start. She had just finished changing into a fresh dress and was in the process of brushing her hair out of the bun it had been in all day in order to make it anew when there was a light knock at the door.

"Come in," she called out, running a brush through her long tresses idly. The quick turn of the handle told her it was Sarah. "I hope you won't mind that I dressed without you, dear, but Lady Emily almost saw my drawing, and I just had to run out," she laughed lightly and finished brushing, putting it down and sighing deeply. "I really do need a haircut, it's getting quite unmanageable. Don't you agree?"

"Not at all," answered a deep voice, full of amusement and slightly breathless.

Diana whirled around in her chair in surprise, her eyes widening. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"You let me in!" protested Richard, a small smile tugging at his lips. His eyes were fixed on her loose hair. "I had no idea your hair was quite that lovely."

Diana blushed scarlet and shook her head, turning back to her dressing-table's mirror. "You shouldn't be in here, Richard."

"You are dressing for dinner an hour early, my love, I hardly think that is _my_ fault," he pointed out.

Diana rolled her eyes. "Then _leave_ so I can continue getting ready!"

"You are more than welcome to continue while I sit here and admire the drawing you were so anxious to hide," Richard moved towards her desk, where she had carefully placed the paper face-down. "I assume this is it?"

In a trice, Diana was out of her seat and standing between him and the desk, the sketch clutched in her hand and hidden behind her back. Either she was afraid of him seeing it or her sudden movement had surprised even her, she did not know, but she was breathless, shaking her head and using her free hand to push Richard back.

"You're not to see it," she said firmly, making sure the paper was securely hidden from view.

"Why?" Richard raised his eyebrows. "Are we keeping secrets now, my love?"

"Of course not!" she protested. Even so, the endearment made her blush, as always.

"Then I see no reason for you to hide this," he made to snatch it out of her hands but she held it out of his reach, which resulted in him smirking and winding his arms around her waist. Diana glared. Richard chuckled. "You seem angry."

"I can't imagine _why_ ," hissed Diana.

"Nor can I," he agreed solemnly.

Diana groaned. "Go away, Richard."

Richard ignored her. "Perhaps I have been too gentlemanly with you," he mused, his eyes still twinkling mischievously as he twirled a thick lock of her hair around his finger. "The fact that you are more fearsome than Napoleon himself when I take liberties is certainly a part of it, of course –" Diana snorted at his comparison. "– but I do believe you think I am incapable of getting what I want simply because _you_ want something else."

Diana rolled her eyes. "You are making absolutely no sense."

"Aren't I? Allow me to explain," his face grew closer, and Diana bit her lip, her breath catching in her throat despite her best attempts to seem uninterested. Richard was not fooled. "Put the drawing down, Diana," he murmured, his hands travelling along her waist to her lower back, where he pressed her forward until she was flush against his chest. Her cheeks coloured, but she made no move to back away. However, she did not let go of the paper. "I won't touch it," he assured her. "You have my word."

Diana hesitated, but her curiosity got the better of her and she let the drawing flutter back onto the desk, leaving her hand free. Richard nudged it with his own until it was lightly resting against his shoulder. "Richard," her voice was breathless, and the tone surprised even her. Richard smirked. Diana could not bring herself to react to his smug expression – he was far too close. "W-what are you doing?"

"I told you I would not kiss you until you wanted me to," he reminded her. His lips brushed against her forehead as he trailed them down from the crown of her head to her jaw, where he paused. "Breathe, darling," he chuckled, and Diana sucked in a breath of air, her heart stuttering when she realized she had stopped breathing when his lips had touched her skin. "I foolishly thought you would want me sooner rather than later," he continued, moving towards the hollow of her ear and pulling back just before he touched her neck, far enough so that his forehead rested against hers, but still close enough that she could count the flecks of green in his dark eyes. "I did not realize I would need to seduce you in order to get what _I_ want."

"S-seduce me?" stammered Diana. Her hand unconsciously tightened against his shirt, and Richard's smirk grew at her flustered state. She did not notice. "W-what do y-you mean?"

"You seem to have trouble breathing when I am close to you," he said teasingly. "I intend to use that to my advantage."

Diana bit down on a corner of her lip, and Richard's eyes darkened at the action. She quirked an eyebrow, some of her courage returning to her. "It seems I have an advantage as well," she mused. Her hand travelled up his shoulder, past his neck and towards his hair. Richard was frozen under her touch, his eyes still dark with a foreign emotion and his expression carefully blank. Diana tried to ignore the slight tremble in her hand and wound it through his hair slowly. Unwilling to stop there, she stood up on her toes and, gently, planted a soft kiss on his cheek, mimicking his earlier actions and trailing her lips gently up to his temple, and then down to his jaw. She gained confidence when he uttered a low groan deep in his throat, allowing her fingers to massage his scalp gently. His stubble tickled her nose, and she smiled against his skin. "Wouldn't you agree, my love?" her words came out as a whisper.

Richard's fingers dug into her back painfully. "One day I will drive you as insane as you make me," he promised, his voice hoarse. "But for now…" he trailed off and let out a deep breath, dropping his hands from around her and pulling back, painstakingly. Diana raised her eyebrows at his actions, but he grimaced. "Darling, you really cannot expect more of a man's self-control."

"I did not realize seduction was all about self-control," commented Diana. She ran a hand through her hair, twisting the locks carefully and pinning them atop her head with a hair-clip lying on her desk. She caught Richard watching her movements with the same emotion in his eyes that she was beginning to identify now, and she gave him a look. "Walk away, Richard. Sarah will be in at any moment."

Richard snorted. "Your maid did a perfect spin when she saw me headed for your door a few minutes ago, I assure you she has no intention of returning so soon."

Diana blushed. "She saw you?"

"She all but encouraged me to go in," Richard smiled smugly, but Diana avoided his eyes and his expression softened. Still keeping his distance, he reached for her hand, which she gave without protest, and pressed his lips to it. "But I will go now, I think. I was merely coming to see if you would walk with me before dinner, but it is late now."

"Quite late," agreed Diana, her gaze still on the floor. Despite the fact that they could have done more, her pulse was quickening just by recalling the way they had just stood. "Will you escort me down?"

He smiled. "Of course." He squeezed her hand and hesitated for a moment before letting out a quiet sigh and making his way towards the door. As it clicked shut, Diana looked up and dazedly made her way back to her dressing-table. The woman in the mirror was a stranger – her hair, despite being tied up, was frizzy and out of place, there were patches of red on her cheeks her eyes were sparkling, the expression of mischief and elation matching the small smile on her lips. She had just tugged her hair out of its contraints when the door opened again and Sarah stepped inside, her face blank.

She got Diana ready in record time, all the while muttering something under her breath. Just as she was about to stand up, Sarah smoothed out her eyebrows and finally cracked a smile. "No need to pinch your cheeks tonight, mum, they are red enough on their own," her cheeky smile was the only teasing Diana had to endure for the night.

That was, of course, until Richard knocked on her door a few minutes before dinner with a familiar glint in his eye. "Excellent sketch," he commented as she accepted his arm. "Though you really ought to capture your jawline better."

Diana hit him with her fan, resisting the urge to laugh.

* * *

 **Hello, my lovelies! First off, I would like to apologize for the long wait, but I think I should set a more realistic goal of one chapter every two weeks, at least until the Christmas holidays. Hopefully this one makes up for the absence, its shorter than what everyone is used to, I know, but the content was GOOD, right? I had to make it proper and yet just a little fun, because you've all been waiting for so long for some liberties to be taken, after all.**

 **Next chapter will hopefully be the travel to Pemberley and the first day there, maybe more if I focus more on the destination rather than the journey. I do want to make it longer next time around though, there will be less R &D action but Elizabeth, Darcy and Georgiana will make an entrance, and I know everyone loves the Darcys!**

 **On to reviews. Despite my unfaithfulness, I would like to thank:**

 **Motherof8: I hope you liked this chapter better!**

 **thpeaky: Thank you for the forgiveness, I hope this one makes up for it!**

 **LovePP: Thanks for the well-wishes, less talking in this chapter but I hope its enjoyable nevertheless.**

 **tarlily: And how did this make you feel? Lol**

 **LitEnthused: I tried in this one!**

 **Jasnfamily4: Well there WAS kissing.. you ought to specify _where_ next time! ;)**

 **catelyntully11: Thank you so much for your kind words, I'm so glad you're enjoying the story! Hope this wasn't too improper for the times, haha!**

 **Mpf271: I will definitely be taking that grabbing suggestion into consideration, I agree I don't think she would mind at all!**

 **romance is my thing: She's my favourite too!**

 **Until next time, m'dears. I expect to review by this time next week because I have this week off from classes - hence the update - but forgive me if it takes the (now) usual two weeks to update. I intend to make the chapter longer, however, so hopefully all will be forgiven. Thanks so much for the well-wishes about my wrist, its all better now and ready to write again.**

 **Much love and see you soon! xx**


	38. Chapter 38

"If you are just going to keep finding excuses to be alone with me, perhaps we should go to Gretna Green now and save everyone the trouble of planning our wedding," commented Diana dryly as she gazed at her fiancé over the edge of her book, one eyebrow raised in amusement.

Richard merely looked smug, not moving an inch from where he was comfortably laying down on the blanket next to her, his head dangerously close to her thigh. " _You_ invited me to join you outside and then _your_ maid left us alone, why should _my_ reputation be compromised by a scandalous marriage in Gretna Green?" he teased.

Diana merely looked amused. "I _invited_ you nowhere, I merely asked where the best view was."

"I could hardly describe it to you; what if you got lost?"

"Yes, darling, I'm sure _that_ is what was on your mind."

Richard shook his head. "You merely want to compromise me."

Diana snorted. "Obviously, because your reputation is so immaculate that I must bring you down to my scandalous level, is that right?"

"Your reputation is hardly _immaculate._ "

"'Tis better than yours, sir."

"Touché, my lady," it was Richard who looked like he wanted to laugh now. "And yet, to govern by fear is not the same as to be loved."

"Loved by every woman in London, you mean."

"I sense jealousy."

" _Hardly_ ," she scoffed. Richard waited for her to say more, but she pointedly held her book in front of her face, dismissing him.

However, he would not be dismissed. "I insist on knowing what your comment meant," he persisted, sitting up and scooting closer. Diana swatted him away like a fly, but he was undaunted. They were to leave for Darcy House in a few hours, and it was still early morning, so Diana had opted to take a light lunch outside on one of the rolling hills that surrounded the estate. At first, her maid had been willing to accompany her, but as soon as Richard had passed them by in the halls of the house and had drawn her into conversation, Sarah had made herself scarce and they had been alone for a good many hours.

"And _I_ insist that you let me read," said Diana, her eyes focused but not reading.

"You would judge a poor man for his harmless flirtations before he met the love of his life?" Richard's tone was joking and overly dramatic, but Diana did not miss the underlying concern in his tone.

She sighed and put her book down, meeting his gaze and wrinkling her nose. "I find it distasteful," she admitted. "But I, of all people, cannot say anything about it."

"And why is that?" he caught her hand as it moved towards her book and pressed his lips to it, ignoring her sigh at the impropriety. "I have done worse, and you know it," he added, kissing her palm again before entwining their fingers and resting their locked hands on the ground between them.

Diana did not pull back her hand. Instead, she hesitated. Despite the fact that she did not want to have this conversation, she had decided that hiding what she was thinking from Richard only hurt them both - at least, this way, he appreciated her honesty. "I married someone else when you left me," she said quietly. She felt Richard grip her hand tighter, and she returned the pressure, fighting to keep her expression neutral, and yet soothing. "I will not lie to you and say he was hateful, or that I was miserable, because he was not and I was not. His only failing was that he was not you."

There was a beat of tense silence. And then…

"Pretty words," his voice was strained, but he was clearly trying to lighten the mood. Diana raised her gaze to meet his, and was relieved to see that, while there was pain in them, his eyes were still teasing. "Dare I say you have learned a thing or two from me, my lady?"

"You cannot take all the credit, I daresay you learned all _your_ pretty words from me," she challenged, smiling herself when he threw back his head and laughed. It was not as hearty as she was used to, but it was a laugh, despite the sadness of the topic they had been discussing.

"I learned a great many things from you, and I learn something new about you every day," acquiesced Richard, still smiling. "But you never did complete your story. I left you and you got married. This gives me the right to flirt, is it?"

He had not let go of her hand. Diana tugged on it this time, inching closer and pressing her lips to his knuckles. She did not look up at him when she spoke. "How can I judge you for merely flirting with every pretty heiress you chance to meet?" she asked, her question purely rhetorical. The conversation was making her heart hurt, but she continued on. "You were stronger than I was - you did not form any permanent attachments while we were apart." She choked on the last word.

Richard closed the distance between them immediately, ignoring Diana's half-hearted, mumbled protests. He gathered her into his arms and pressed a kiss against the side of her head, his free hand caressing her hair. "You are all I ever wanted and all I will ever need," he murmured softly. "What is past is past. I will come back and you will never have to think on these subjects again."

"Oh, you silly man," Diana sighed, blinking away the traitor tears that had threatened to overcome her for only a few seconds. Nevertheless, she made no move to remove herself from her arms. Something he had said struck a cord within her, and suddenly she realized she needed to understand, once and for all, what he was thinking. "Can you promise me that?"

"I swear it, my love."

Diana shook her head. "No. Can you promise you will come back to me?"

She could feel his arms tense around her, and then he was pulling back and his eyes were sad. "That depends," said Richard slowly. "Would you like me to make a promise I do not know if I can keep?"

Diana closed her eyes, letting out a jagged breath slowly. Her pulse was racing, and the tears were once again burning behind her lids, but she was mistress of her emotions now, she would not let Richard see her cry when he was finally addressing the fears that had been dancing around in her head since the day she had read the letter from his commanding officer. "You've never lied to me before this," she said, her voice shaky but full of resolve. "I want to know what you are thinking."

Richard sighed, one hand rubbing his forehead in his usual sign of frustration while the other continued to hold onto hers tightly. "I do not know what you want me to say."

"Just the truth."

He frowned. "I have not lied to you about any of this, darling. I have answered your every query –"

"– with just enough information to make sure I am not uneasy," Diana completed his sentence for him. She shook her head. "I will worry about you no matter what, Richard. You could at the very least tell me what it is I must fear."

His eyes were sad. "I do not want you to be afraid."

"The man I love is going away. I am only afraid of losing him –"

"– and I hate myself for doing this to you –"

"– but I do not hate you."

"Diana, if you are wanting to say I should not leave –"

"I never said you should not go," said Diana immediately. He looked confused, and she forced herself to smile. "What kind of a woman would I be if I deny the man I love something he believes he needs?"

"And you?" his eyes were questioning. "What is it that _you_ need?"

 _For you to stay with me._ "Your safe return."

Finally, he cracked a smile. "Then I shall endeavour to fulfil your needs."

Her eyes twinkled. "For now that will do. Though I feel I should tell you that, more often than not, women prefer their _wants_ to be fulfilled, not just needs."

"In that case, I intend to fulfil the wants _and_ needs of my future wife, madam, I assure you," the spark was back in his eyes, and he tugged on a loose lock of her hair teasingly as he spoke.

"You needn't worry, sir, I hear your future wife would be quite happy with just her needs being taken care of," said Diana playfully.

"Is that so?" his fingers trailed down her temple to her jaw, and he stroked her cheek. "Then I am a lucky man."

Diana smiled and rested her face against his hand. "Yes, you are."

Richard chuckled. They sat that way for a few seconds, his fingers idly tracing her hairline and going down across her temple to the line of her jaw, then venturing up to her lips, and then he spoke. "May I say something?"

Diana tilted her head to one side at his odd request. "Of course."

Richard dropped his hand and reached for her again. Diana returned to his arms willingly, her back pressed comfortably against his chest as his arms wrapped around her middle. "I say this because you were honest with me, and in turn I wish to be honest with you," his words were quiet in her ear, his breath tickling her neck. Diana fought the urge to shiver. "I know I often jest, but if I could marry you today, without care for scandal and our families, I would. In a heartbeat. I need you to know that, my love."

"Of course I know," soothed Diana. She hesitated for only a second before continuing, "And I want it as well. More than anything." She covered his hands with hers and turned her head to the side to catch his eye, offering him a smile. He smiled back and kissed her temple reverently, resting their heads together as they enjoyed a few, peaceful moments alone before they had to travel once more.

* * *

 **I have been away for so long and I deserve none of your love and everlasting support but alas I must call upon it again, I swear I have been trying to update but uni is kicking my butt and its driving me crazy. This chapter is short, I know, but only because something MAJOR is happening next chapter (which will also be short but WORTH IT I PROMISE). Also, if you guess what happens in the reviews I will PM you at that instant and you will get a surprise - review to find out ;)**

 **Speaking of reviews, THANK YOU SO MUCH to these beautiful people:**

 **catelyntully11: Great to know you're on board with the impropriety, thanks!**

 **LookingAnswers: Thank you for the love, hope youre enjoying the story**

 **FeebleFluffyFan: Hello and welcome to the story! Hahaha I have considered a prequel but that would be a series of oneshots based off some R &D moments which are mentioned only in passing here, though their past is set exclusively during Henry and Emily's courtship so if I do end up doing a story about them you'll see all of the characters mentioned in this one quite a bit - but they were very different then compared to now, I warn you! Glad you're enjoying the story though xx**

 **Jansfamily4: IF YOU'RE ENJOYING THE IMPROPRIETY then just wait until the next few chapters *hint hint wink wink***

 **Motherof8: Darcys will come in the next chapter, but Gretna Green not quite yet! (or maybe sooner than we all think?)**

 **LovePP: Oh dear haha I hope it wasn't too much! I did try and temper it but those two just run away with the words, I can't help it!**

 **Aaaaand that's all of them. If any of you wonderful people are still reading do give me a shout, I can't promise very regular updates (though I will try and maintain a 2 week schedule) but I will endeavour to keep you posted as to my schedule so you all have something to look forward to. Content-wise, this chapter only has one very very VERY significant line, but I doubt anyone will pick up on it - its almost so obvious that you could miss it (I do love writing this way, I'll be honest). Otherwise, its a bit of a feel-good chapter, helping us cement their relationship and sort of display how much its changed / how much is still the same, because, and I repeat, BIG THINGS ARE COMING UP IN THE NEXT FEW CHAPTERS!**

 **Also, the American election, guys... I'm not American, but political beliefs aside I am reeling in shock. Hence, the update - we all need something good in our lives, right?**

 **Anyway, that's all for now. HOPEFULLY see you all very soon, for now I hope you enjoy this chapter! Much love xxx**


	39. Chapter 39

"Being engaged suits you."

"And being married suits you," Richard laughed jovially, always the more expressive of the two, and enveloped his cousin in a hug. Darcy was taller, but Richard was broader, and so the master of Pemberley merely chuckled and allowed himself to be embraced. "It is good to see you, William."

"And you as well, Richard," Darcy smiled a bright, youthful smile that his cousin had seen grace his features only rarely. "You rode ahead, then?"

"I did," Richard glanced back, unable to see it but knowing that the two carriages containing his family and Diana were some ways behind him. "You asked me to, after all."

"I had something I wished you to see, and I did not know if you would want Henry or Uncle to be present," replied Darcy as he led him into the house. A footman came forward to take Richard's outerwear and he shed it quickly before hurrying after his cousin to his study. "Elizabeth is anxiously awaiting the family's arrival, but she said she would give us some privacy, for now," continued Darcy as they entered the room that was familiar to Richard, with the immaculate desk and the tasteful but clearly expensive furniture. However, there were fresh flowers by the window and new cushions on the divan. There was also a half-finished cup of coffee lying on the desk opposite to where Darcy sat. Richard tried not to grin.

"Well, you have my attention, cousin. How may I be of service?" Richard sank into the plush armchair and raised an eyebrow expectantly.

Uncharacteristically, Darcy smirked. "Actually, cousin, it is a service _I_ may render _you_ ," he reached into a drawer of his desk and withdrew a sealed envelope, tossing it to him with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Richard blinked. "You made me ride three hours ahead of my party to read a letter? Surely you could have posted it?"

Darcy rolled his eyes. "I did not want it to get lost in the post."

"Then you could have sent a rider to London."

"That would be ridiculous since you were arriving days after I received it."

"Surely I can read a letter with Henry and my father in the same room?"

"Do shut up and read the blasted thing, Richard."

Richard sniggered. He broke the seal and took out the heavy paper from within the envelope, more than a little curious to know what it was that had driven his patient and sombre cousin to call him early and be positively cheeky about it. As soon as he read the first page, however, his mouth fell open.

"You didn't."

"Oh, but I did," Darcy sounded more than a little amused. "I never did take you for a patient man, Richard, and your willingness to become one now was most disconcerting."

Richard blinked. He flipped the page and noted the seal of his lawyers' offices on the top right-hand corner. It was a marriage settlement. His cousin had thought of everything. "I do not know what to say."

Darcy rolled his eyes. " _You_ do not have to say anything; we all know you would catch the first coach to Gretna Green if there was a chance that Diana would agree to go with you. This way, you do not have to leave."

"William," said Richard slowly. He was still staring at the paper. "This is a special marriage license."

"Is it? I was not aware."

Richard did not have the strength to comment, or else he would have teased his cousin mercilessly for the cutting sarcasm he had clearly mastered barely a few months after his marriage, no doubt inspired by his wife. "You do not understand," he ran a hand through his hair. A feeling of disbelief and excitement spread through him. "I could marry her tomorrow."

Darcy sighed, but understood his cousin's need to speak, to voice his thoughts. He had used Richard as a sounding-board often enough in the past, he could consent to being one instead for now. "Yes, that is true."

"I could marry her before I leave, actually get to be a _husband_ to her," Richard sounded awed. "Lord, what would that feel like?"

Darcy cleared his throat, unsure as to whether he was being addressed but deciding to speak anyway. "Marrying the woman you love certainly feels incredible, if that is any help."

Finally, Richard seemed to snap out of it. He folded the papers carefully and put them into the envelope, knowing he would need to read the settlement his lawyer had sent over carefully to ensure his requests for Diana's future without him had been recognized. A million thoughts were running through his head. "We would have to go back to Matlock, or London, of course. I cannot –"

"You will go nowhere," said Darcy sharply. "You are spending Christmas at Pemberley, Richard. We can certainly organize a wedding alongside the ball, I assure you. Elizabeth is more than up to the task, and your mother, Emily and Diana are excellent at this sort of thing."

Richard blinked slowly and looked up at his cousin. "We can get married _here_?"

"Here _and_ now," said Darcy. He fixed his cousin with a firm look. "I insist."

His severity worked very well on others, but he should have known it would not work on the person who was the closest thing he had to a brother. Richard shook his head. "You have always been generous with me, more than is required of you despite how close we are, William. I know the license was no issue, and even if it is not used now you have my eternal gratitude, but to host the _wedding_?" he gestured to the envelope in his hands helplessly. "What can I say to that?"

"Thank me and discuss any particulars with Elizabeth," shrugged Darcy. He would have left it at that, clearly, but when Richard continued to look dumbfounded he clicked his tongue. "Come now, man, what it is? Money is not a problem; we both know that. Your parents would love to throw you a lavish wedding but there is no time for such an event. Everyone of consequence will be in attendance here soon enough, and I will even extend an invitation to Diana's mother if that is what she would prefer. I do not see why or how you could object to this."

" _I_ do not want to object."

"And you have so little faith in your betrothed, Richard?" asked Darcy exasperatedly. "Even after everything that is happened? When last we spoke you said you two were talking things through more often."

"We are," Richard nodded, his eyes still hesitant but his tone firm. "Secrets will not do, we both understand that about each other. She has said that, if possible, she would want to marry before I leave –"

"There you have it!"

"– but I worry she says these things for me rather than for herself," persisted Richard. He sighed. "I see her eyes every time my departure is mentioned, Darcy, and I find myself unable to find the words to describe what I see. Her pain is so clear, and it is _my_ fault. Yet when I ask her about it, she says she respects my decision, even _encourages_ it."

"None of those things mean she does not want to marry you."

"Perhaps she simply does not want to marry me _now_."

Darcy sighed. "I cannot understand your reasoning, nor will I pretend to. You have the necessary papers, what you do with them is your concern. The license will still be valid when you return from the continent, should you choose to use it then. However, I urge you to speak to Diana about this."

Richard nodded thoughtfully, stuffing the envelope into his pocket just as the footman knocked and announced that the carriages from Matlock were arriving. Darcy threw him one last look before striding out of the study. Richard followed him.

 **!**

Richard slipped back into the empty sitting-room once the music began, heaving a sigh and touching the pocket of his shirt lightly, to ensure the papers had not jostled from where he had hastily stuffed them once the carriage had been announced. He closed the door to the adjoining music-room behind himself and sank down into the easy-chair by the fire, resting his head against the back and staring into the flames moodily.

He had always prided himself on his poker-face, of course, but one look at Diana, in her pretty green dress with a warm shawl thrown over her shoulders and her engagement ring – _his_ ring – glinting on her hand as she stepped out of the carriage had almost made him come undone. He had been unable to look her in the eye, and settled for staring when she was not looking at him. He had talked and laughed, however, allowing his brother to ply him with alcohol and taking advantage of his slight inebriated state to forget his troubles. In doing so, he had made sure to ignore the pointed glares of his mother and Darcy's disapproving looks. It was uncharacteristic of him to drink in this way, and he knew Diana noticed – even little Henry, before going upstairs, had whispered not-so-quietly to his mamma that Uncle Richard was being _very_ loud – so he had made his escape, if only for a few moments, whilst he was sure everyone was busy hearing Georgiana play the latest piece she had learned on the harp.

His half-finished glass, his fourth if he remembered correctly, was still lying on the table next to the chair where he had left it, and he picked it up, staring at it for a moment before shrugging and taking a sip. He had not meant to act this way, but he could not help it. Darcy's gift was thoughtful, and clearly he knew Richard well enough to know it would not just be appreciated, it would be useful. He wanted nothing more than to marry Diana before he left, allowing both of them to have at least _some_ happy memories together. Of course, he thought bitterly as the fire continued to crackle, they should have had _years_ to make them instead of mere weeks. If not for her mother and _his_ idiocy...

Unwilling to focus on such thoughts, he forced himself to consider the matter at hand. _His_ feelings were crystal clear and he had voiced them on more than one occasion. However, he had a very vague idea of her feelings on the matter, and Richard loathed the idea of forcing her into anything she did not feel comfortable with. Certainly, she wanted to marry him, and she wanted to do it sooner than their original plan, which was after his return. Their morning in the garden had confirmed it, but did that mean she would want to do it _now?_ There was no way to be sure except to ask her, and asking her may make her feel that she _should_ say yes, if only to make him happy. The idea of her going into this marriage, _their_ marriage, with anything other than _her_ desires in mind was sickening.

Other than Diana's emotions, there was the _ton_ to consider. Richard knew she thought he did not understand such things, but he knew more than she gave him credit for. He was not as diplomatic as her, but he was shrewd. Her engagement had come as a surprise and had had a negative effect on her reputation amongst her peers. His own aunt disapproved the match, and though her superstitions were popular reasons, they were the least harmful ones. Their engagement had caused a ruckus, but a _marriage_ so soon after her husband's death would outcast her immediately. Their only hope of maintaining a respectable social standing would be if they waited until he returned.

But _could_ he wait? He doubted it. He did not want to wait anymore. The moment the license was in his hand, unbidden thoughts flashed across his mind's eye – being alone with her, being able to touch her whenever he wanted, _wherever_ he wanted, being able to kiss her, even being able to ask her all those questions he knew as merely a fiancé he could not – everything had occurred to him, and now that it had he did not want them to stay thoughts. He wanted to call her his, and he wanted every man who had ever looked at her to know she was his, prehistoric as that sounded.

Only one question remained.

And for the first time, he could honestly say he had no idea what she wanted.

"You look quite pensive."

The feminine voice had made him freeze, but only for a second. He smiled a little when he recognized it. "Am I being anti-social, cousin?"

"Only a little," replied Elizabeth, taking the seat opposite him and offering him a grin. "You are always delightful company, of course, though you are overcompensating today."

"Am I?" he took another sip, just to see her reaction.

He was surprised when she did not bat an eye. "Quite. I am used to my husband being oblivious to social etiquette, not you."

Richard snorted. "Darcy is blinder than I, even on my worst days."

"If you insist," she still sounded pleasant. "Penny for your thoughts, Richard?"

"Are they worth so little?"

"If they are about whom I think they are, I should hope not."

Despite his mood, he chuckled. "You are a clever woman, Mrs. Darcy."

"Lizzie," she corrected. Richard looked up at her, and saw that her grin had softened into a sympathetic smile. "You do not know what she will say, do you?"

He did not need to ask what she meant. Obviously, the Darcys kept no secrets. The alcohol had given him a buzz, but he doubted he was drunk enough to have this conversation with his new cousin. Nevertheless, he answered. "I have a fair idea. I just do not know _why_ she will say it."

Elizabeth nodded, looking as if she understood. Richard had no doubt that she, in fact, _did_. "You will only know if you try."

He shook his head. "I cannot put her in such a position."

Elizabeth shrugged, "You may be surprised to know how she thinks."

"I doubt there is a man alive who knows here better than I," Richard ran a hand over his face wearily. Elizabeth did not react to his statement, but she did not need to. Suddenly, he _wanted_ to speak. "It is why I hesitate," he explained, leaning forward slightly, as if angling himself closer to his audience could convey the gravity of the situation. "Diana's heart rules her more than she realizes. She will do something that will make her happy _now_ , and later she may regret it."

Something in his words made Elizabeth bite her lip. When Richard gave her an expectant look, she spoke. "Correct me if I am wrong," she said quietly. "But was it not _this_ reasoning of yours that led to your departure and her subsequent marriage to someone else in the first place? You thought she would grow to regret being a poor, second son's wife."

He almost groaned. Of _course_ she was right. Darcy would not choose a stupid woman, after all. Richard sighed. "She may regret it yet, I am just far too old and far too selfish to care. Life without her has been hell."

Elizabeth hummed in reply. "You must underestimate her greatly if you believe she would be so easily swayed in her affection for you."

"I do not underestimate her love. It is a fact. You will not understand, Lizzie," Richard shook his head. "Darcy will always make sure you want for nothing. I cannot make that promise to Diana, much as I would like to."

"Money does not matter so much in love, Richard," Elizabeth said pointedly. "We _both_ know that."

"It is not just the money."

Elizabeth quirked an eyebrow. "Then what is it?"

Richard hesitated. "It is me," he said finally. Elizabeth blinked in confusion, so he reluctantly continued. "Delaying our marriage is the last thing I want, but it is the safer option. Should I not return –" she sucked in a breath at his words, and he was tempted to press her hand, but found he could not move. The amount of thinking _and_ drinking he was doing was taking its toll on him, mentally and physically. He merely threw her an apologetic look. "– if something were to happen to me, Diana would be a widow for the second time, and her marriage prospects would in effect be nil. She is a strong woman and she can look after herself just fine, but she should not have to. She is young, she may love again if I am not here. It would be infinitely harder for her to follow her heart should she lose a husband _again_."

Elizabeth let out a shaky breath, her hands curling into fists in her lap. "How long have you been thinking about this?" she demanded. Richard shrugged. Her eyes narrowed. "Richard Fitzwilliam, do not try to shake this off. You have thought about this often, have you not? Your _death_?"

"I am a soldier, I serve at the command of the King," he said monotonously, for the first time feeling no pride in his words. "Just because _my_ heart cannot factor into this does not mean _hers_ may not."

"I will not have you considering your _demise_ as the reason you would delay your marriage!"

Richard finally sat up and, ignoring his spinning head, reached for his cousin's hand, squeezing it gently and offering her a kind smile. Elizabeth's eyes were glinting with the fire Darcy had so often described in the most admiring and loving words Richard had ever heard him use, and once again he was grateful that the man he considered a brother had finally found a woman who could love him, and love everyone he loved as well.

"Do not fret, cousin," he soothed. Elizabeth's shoulders slumped, her expression dropping from furious to sad instantly, showing that she was more worried than angry. He offered her a smile. "I will think on it more, at your behest. Does that please you?"

"Planning a wedding before Christmas would please me," sniffed Elizabeth, but she returned his half-smile nevertheless. Richard withdrew his hand and rested his head against the chair again, just as the door opened and voices echoed in the passage before their party returned to the room.

* * *

 **Hello, my lovelies! I know I'm possibly spoiling you all with an early update, initially this was two separate chapters but then you know how A) I hate continuing the same POV for too long, B) I can't spread one day over 4 chapters, C) number 40 should be reserved for something exciting and not so much angst (though there _will_ be angst) and D) everyone was _really_ missing Elizabeth and Darcy so I stuffed them both in here, we can't have R&D and D&E in the same chapter... the cuteness would kill us all.**

 **Anyway, congratulations to all those who guessed right! A special marriage license was indeed going to make an appearance. Unfortunately, no one got it _exactly_ right. I was hoping for someone to say that _Darcy_ is the one who gives him the license, but close enough! You have another shot - what secrets will be outed in the next chapter, and which ones will be kept? (This one is so vague but I love seeing what you guys come up with, I thought I was a mysterious writer but clearly you are all _really_ into this story!).**

 **Anyway, thank you to my reviewers:**

 **April: Welcome to the family, I'm so glad you're enjoying the story!**

 **HarnGin: Thank you so much, and welcome! I hope you're enjoying it so far!**

 **catelyntully11: So glad you understand my pain haha, its a struggle but I get the writing fits on and off (my favourite is when I hang out in the pub in order to get some work done in between classes and end up pounding out two or three chapters and then go to my next class in a P &P daze!). You're guesses are a little all over the place, but good try! Maybe you'll get this one right? xx**

 **Jansfamily4: YOU ARE A SMART PERSON. _NEARLY THERE!_ And that is all I will say.**

 **Motherof8: Thanks for the review!**

 **Deanna27: Ah, in an ideal world!**

 **team. k. putt: Hope the Darcys lived up to the hype!**

 **Lady Mischief: My, my, such impropriety! Are you sure there isn't a better option? x**

 **Guest: Thank you! I love writing conversations between them, if I had my way all my chapters would be full of it but without all our meddling friends we would never get anywhere with the story! Glad you liked it xx**

 **JN: Hope you enjoyed the new twist!**

 **LovePP: Thank you so much for understanding, so happy that my readers are so supportive. As for the election, all we can do is pray and hope! xx**

 **And that's all for now, phew! I must say I loved the enthusiasm for the last chapter, its really what made me update so soon!**

 **Next chapter _may_ possibly be up by this weekend, IF my academic plans go well. If not, by this time next week I should be able to update since the next chapter is already 2k+ words written (since its the 40th chapter, it'll be a nice, long, angsty, ACTION-PACKED one).**

 **That's all for now, apologies for the long AN. Until next time, much love xx**


	40. Chapter 40

He was close to falling asleep in the chair when he sensed someone next to him. A shadow fell across his face, and the faint scent of lilacs gave away her identity immediately. "You upset Elizabeth," hummed Diana. Richard did not respond. She leaned against the side of his chair, her waist at level with his face. He did not look up. Her slender hands came towards him, brushing a lock of hair out of his eyes and plucking the glass from his loose grip. "I think that's enough for tonight, darling," she murmured, setting the glass on a table behind her and drawing a futon closer so she could sit next to him. The room was abuzz with conversation, but everyone appeared to be giving them a good deal of privacy. Richard had yet to look at her, but he almost jumped out of his skin when he felt her hand tug at his. "What bothers you so that you will not tell me?" she asked, her voice even.

"It is nothing," he managed to say, hoping his voice did not betray him.

It did. "Did we not agree that secrets were the cause of all our problems?" sighed Diana.

"I keep no secrets from you."

"Lying counts as a secret."

Richard shook his head. "You misunderstand. I am merely tired."

"You have been drinking to make up for the fact that you would rather be anywhere but here," said Diana. Richard tried not to give away the fact that she was absolutely right, but she already knew she was. "Is it about Darcy? Did you two fight when you rode ahead to see him?" the even tone was gone; she sounded distressed now.

He sighed. "No, my love," he squeezed the hand that held his and finally turned to look at her. Her eyes were wide with concern, and her nails were digging into his skin with the pressure she was applying. He used his free hand to touch her face. "You must not worry needlessly."

" _You_ are worrying me, Richard." He could not deny that was true. It was a testament to how worried she _and_ everyone else in the room were that she did not protest at his affectionate gesture, and nor did anyone else.

Richard sighed again. He would have to think quickly to make it up to her, and to avoid raising he suspicions. "Silly girl, there is nothing to worry about. Come," he stood and held out his hand, which she took in confusion. "It is not yet dark, and the grounds at this end of the house are lovely. We will take a walk which will effectively tire you out so you may sleep, and sober me up so I may stop being a pest. Is that acceptable?"

The worry in her eyes did not diminish, but she smiled nevertheless. Knowing they could not go unaccompanied, Georgiana volunteered to walk with them, the uncharacteristic glint in her eye telling the couple that Elizabeth had managed to work her magic on the otherwise shy girl. Indeed, as soon as they started on the stone path around the house, Georgiana claimed to see one of the gardeners that she absolutely _had_ to speak to about the flowers for the Christmas ball, and promised to find them momentarily if they continued on without her.

"Clever girl," said Diana in amusement, watching her sprint away before either of them could object. "She is quite fond of you, I see."

Richard nodded, smiling slightly at the image of a toddler Georgiana tugging at his sleeves and making faces at him when Darcy was not there to reprimand her. "She is the little sister I never realized I wanted."

They walked on in silence, preferring to stick to the path rather than take the shortcuts through the trees. Richard could hold his liquor excellently, but the generous amount of alcohol he had consumed combined with the fatigue of the day made him slow, and eventually he was using Diana's arm as a crutch rather than the other way around. She did not object at it, however after a time they came upon a stone bench and Diana guided him towards it firmly, ignoring his protests.

"I am surprised at your patience," he commented, trying to make light of the situation. Diana merely rolled her eyes and sat down next to him, a good dealer closer than she normally would have. Deciding to see exactly how far she would go, Richard drew an arm around her cautiously, and was surprised when she rested her head against his chest and let out a small sigh of contentment.

"I am a patient woman," she replied. It took him a few seconds to realize she was responding to his earlier comment. "You are not always a patient man."

Richard snorted. "You are the third person to say that to me today."

"Hmm," she sighed. He glanced down to see that her eyes were closed, and got the distinct feeling she was close to falling asleep. "Who were the others?"

"Darcy and Elizabeth."

"And what have you been impatient about?" she nestled closer, her hand coming to rest against his chest.

"Nothing of consequence," said Richard quietly. He rested his cheek against the top of her head, inhaling the scent of her hair. "Are you tired?"

"Didn't think I was," Diana suppressed a yawn, removing her hand from his chest to cover her mouth and letting it fall back when she was done. The crinkle of paper could be heard distinctly as she touched him, and Richard stiffened immediately. Diana lifted her head. "What is that?" without warning, her hand was reaching into his coat and pulling out the thick envelope. She turned it over. "I don't recognize the seal. Why are you carrying letters around with you?" she still sounded tired, but also curious.

Richard had no doubt that he could make up a lie, take advantage of her clearly exhausted state and they would not have to speak on the subject, but he was caught. If he lied to her now and told her the truth later, she would never forgive him. So, he sighed and took the envelope from her gently, extracting the page that would be of most interest to her and holding it out for her to take without a word. His heart was hammering in his chest, and he was surprised she could not hear it, close as she was.

Diana did not seem to notice his agitated state. Instead, she yawned again, covering her mouth with one hand and reaching for the paper with the other. Narrowing her eyes to make out the words in the dim light of evening, he saw her eyes move as she read through the first few lines.

And then she blinked rapidly and read it again.

And again.

She stood up and walked away from him, holding the paper up and examining it critically as if it were a fake.

Richard sighed. "Its real," he called out, causing her to jump and turn to look at him as if she had forgotten he was there. She was too far away for him to judge how she was feeling; her face remained impassive. "Darcy gave it to me when I rode ahead," when she made no move to come closer, he knew he had to explain. "I did not want you to feel you _had_ to do anything, Diana, I would have told you about it eventually, I just needed to know I would be doing the right thing."

"You've had this since morning?" she did not move from her position, so Richard stood up and made his way closer to her. She did not back away, which he took as a good sign.

Wincing, he nodded. "I did."

"And you were wondering how to tell me about this so I would not feel as if I had to marry you just because you were leaving?"

He had not given her enough credit; he could see it immediately. She had figured out his insecurities in an instant, and he had yet to decipher her thoughts. Her tone was flat, and she was looking at him as if he was too stupid for her to waste time straightening her expression. Helplessly, he nodded.

Diana did not react. "And did you mean it, when you said you would marry me before you left, if you could?"

"Yes," he answered immediately. "Never doubt that."

"I don't doubt it," she said, which made him sigh in relief. It did not last long. She crossed the distance between them and, before he could blink, she had drawn her hand back and slapped him across the face.

Richard closed his eyes and let out a deep breath, fighting to control the rush of anger he felt. It was reflexive, and gone almost instantly. If any other woman had tried that on him he would have some choice words to say, but not with Diana. He knew he deserved the slap; in fact, he probably deserved worse, but it still _hurt._ Not just the physical act itself, though he had to admit Diana was stronger than she looked. In addition, she had backhanded him with her left hand, and he was almost sure she had done it on purpose so her ring would catch his cheek.

It hurt because he knew he had hurt _her_. Diana had always gotten violent when she was angry – she broke china, she threw things, and he distinctly remembered an instant when she had slammed the lid of her pianoforte on her master's hands because he had offended her in some way. But she had never hurt him, no matter how much he had made her angry or upset her. Always, she had merely given him a look, full of anger and often disappointment, and walked away from him. The fact that she had hit him and was still standing there meant she had something to say, and he knew he had to hear it.

When he opened his eyes, a knife twisted in his stomach. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and her face was twisted in a snarl. The familiar wildness in her eyes, the one that he loved, was back, but it made him ache with pain instead of joy this time, reflecting the pain in her face.

"You are a fool," she hissed, her hands shaking as she shoved the paper back at him. "I have _every_ right to doubt you, and yet I _never_ do. I told myself when you proposed that the one thing I could always be sure of in my life from that day on would be your love and respect, but you could not even give me _that_ when it mattered the most. Instead of speaking to me about something that clearly concerns _me_ , you hid it and tried to drink yourself into a stupor!"

"I didn't mean –" he tried to protest, but she cut him off.

"I don't care what you _meant_ ," she bit out. Her voice was venomous, and the knife settled deeper inside of him when he realized the pure _loathing_ in her eyes was because of what he had done. "I refuse to read your bloody mind every time something unexpected happens. You take advantage of the fact that I know you, and yet you do not even know _me_ well enough to know what I want!" she took a step back and nearly tripped on her hem, her emotions once again altering her balance.

The memory of her lying on the floor, unmoving and with a gash down the side of her head came into Richard's mind, and he reflexively reached for her, grabbing her arm and anchoring her to him. "Diana, you need to calm down," he tried to soothe her without being patronizing, but it was difficult. _She_ was difficult on a good day, but right now she was livid.

"Do _not_ tell me to calm down," she wrenched her arm out of his grip. "I will fall down and bash my own head open if I want to, it is no concern of yours."

"Of course it is," he was losing his patience now, especially because her words had just been proven true – she _could_ read his mind, and he could not read hers. "Don't be ridiculous. You know I would have eventually spoken to you about this."

"Would you really?" sarcasm dripped from her tone. "I apologize, _Major General_ , I should have guessed as much, since your record with telling important things to the woman you claim to _love_ clearly speaks for itself."

"How could I not?" he asked incredulously. "You know I want to marry you before I go! I was worried about _you_. This marriage will be beneficial for no one except myself."

If possible, her expression darkened. "You claim to worry about me and yet you are more worried about what society wants than what _I_ want."

"Diana, you are being impossible."

"I am merely throwing your own words back at you," she folded her arms across her chest. "You said you trusted no one to care for me except me, and yet when it came down to it, you thought _you_ knew best. _You were wrong_."

"What are you trying to say?" he demanded.

"I am _trying_ to say that had you shown me the blasted license when I got out of that carriage this morning we could be married by now," she snapped. Richard froze, his mouth open to speak but his brain unable to form words. Diana shook her head. "I refuse to hear any more of your excuses," angrily, she rubbed away her tears. "I am going back inside. Do not try to follow me, and do not try to speak to me until you have decided what it is you want. Because if you want _me_ , Richard Fitzwilliam, you're damn well going to have to do more than give me a ring to prove it now."

* * *

 **I have a deadline next week so _of course_ I'm updating super early because I would rather be doing anything than writing stuff which will actually go towards my degree. I am going to fail and be a ffn writer forever... Doesn't sound half bad, if I'm honest.**

 **The total chapter length was amounting to 5k and above so I had to cut it down, this was actually just one of three parts but somehow Diana _always_ gets carried away and I end up going on a tangent. Anyway, disaster has struck, and it will get worse before it gets better. I know its super angst-y but that's the genre!**

 **Thank you to the lovely reviewers:**

 **Motherof8: Over-thinker extraordinaire, that's our Richard!**

 **April: You're very welcome, I'm glad you're enjoying it so far! You were quite good at guessing it halfway, she is hurt and she did find out by accident but she's frustrated because she knows his reasons and they're getting old now, for lack of a better phrase. Hope this chapter lived up to the hype!**

 **Deanna27: Ah well, if only they were two people who actually _talked_ about their issues! Life would be so much more simpler **

**TakeYouBySurprise055: Welcome to the story, glad you like it! Enjoy x**

 **JN: I hope the timing of the update makes up for the content!**

 **LovePP: We all know they'll get married _eventually_ , but not quite yet! Many more conversations to be had, unfortunately.**

 **Gaskellian: EXCELLENT! That is exactly what she thinks! He's really in for it this time, isn't he?**

 **Tell me what you thought. I'm biting my nails myself because I have no idea what is going on, THE CHARACTERS ARE SPEAKING FOR THEMSELVES NOW. Until next time, guys, much love xx**


	41. Chapter 41

"Get up, Richard."

"Go to bed, William."

Darcy huffed, glared at his cousin for a moment before giving up and sitting down next to him on the carpeted floor. Without a word, he swiped the bottle of bourbon from his hands and took a swig. He made a face at the taste. "You always did go for the cheapest bottle I had."

"Easier that I don't have to pay you back," retorted Richard. His wit was still intact, Darcy noted, which he took as a good sign. However, there was a distinct slur to his words and his eyes were pointedly bloodshot.

Of course, there was also the fact that he was seated on the ground in the middle of the hallway that housed Diana's room.

"I take it you have done something stupid again?" asked Darcy, keeping his tone light.

Richard snorted. "Understatement."

"You did not tell her about the license?"

"She found out."

"Ah," Darcy cleared his throat. "And?"

"She slapped me."

Despite himself, Darcy guffawed. Richard threw him a withering look. He shrugged. "I was wondering what that mark was."

"Her ring," Richard touched the stinging cut on his cheek absently. He had almost forgotten about it. "The fact that she's still kept it is something to be hopeful about, I suppose."

Darcy rolled his eyes. "She is not like you, Richard. She will not run at the first sign of conflict."

"I did not –" he sounded indignant.

Darcy interrupted him abruptly. "We both know what you did. The fact that you lied to me about it shows just how guilty you were over leaving her the first time."

Richard deflated almost immediately, the harsh reality of his cousin's words hitting him. "She has every right to leave me now."

"She has every right to be _upset_ with you," corrected Darcy. "You did something you should not have done, but you are human and so is she. Once she calms down, she will see that, foolish though your intentions were, you did not mean to cause her pain. Though, I am sure she meant to cause _you_ pain," his lips tugged upwards in a smirk. "She has an excellent backhand."

Richard laughed wryly. "She should. I taught it to her."

They lapsed into silence, but both men's minds were working furiously. Darcy had been sent to his cousin by his wife with very specific instructions, but it had taken him an hour to find him. By now, he knew Elizabeth was with Diana and, unlike Richard, he also knew Diana was not in her room. However, the only way to make sure anyone got any sleep that night would be to get Richard up and into his bed so Diana could enter her room and sleep off her anger.

One glance at his cousin proved that would not happen. Richard's tolerance for alcohol as admirable, something he had clearly learned in the army. In addition, even as youths Darcy had always been the one to hold his drink lightly and fall asleep first – Richard could force himself to stay awake for hours. The skill has come in handy when they were young men at Cambridge, but right now it was troublesome; from the look in his eyes, Darcy could tell Richard was thinking of ways to give him the slip so you could continue his vigil in silence.

"Have you considered getting some sleep so that you may speak to her at length tomorrow?" said Darcy finally.

Richard shrugged. "I plan to wait until she comes out, actually."

"That could be tomorrow morning," said Darcy slowly, hoping his tone sounded truthful. "You mean to sleep out here, then?"

"If I can."

"Richard, you are being absurd."

"I am not. I _cannot_ sleep."

"Why not?"

"Because every time I close my eyes I see her face," he snapped suddenly, with a ferocity that made Darcy blink in surprise. "I have _never_ seen her look at me like that. The _loathing_ in her eyes –" he cut himself off and clenched his hands into fists, opening them only long enough to grab the bottle and take along, large gulp.

For once, Darcy did not voice his disapproval. "She does not mean it, Richard, she is merely upset."

"I upset her more than I make her happy."

"Like any other man," said Darcy dryly. Richard's expression showed he did not appreciate his cousin's attempt at humour. He sighed. "Come now, get some sleep and allow her to do the same. Tomorrow, you will both feel better. If your head has not caved in by then," he couldn't resist adding.

Richard grunted, but nevertheless allowed Darcy to help him to his feet and escort him to his room a few hallways over. Without a word, he closed the door firmly behind him and leaned against it, counting backwards from one hundred. Sleep would elude him tonight, he was sure of it, but he _would_ see her before she retired for the night. Even if he had to sneak out of his room like a child without his cousin knowing what he was up to.

 **!**

"You are allowed to be angry, dearest, but it will do you no good to sit here and dwell on it," said Elizabeth quietly. "You should go to bed. Things will be clearer in the morning."

Listlessly, Diana raised her eyes from where they had been focused on the dying embers of the library fireplace. "He is outside my room, I do not want to leave while he is still there," she shrugged. Elizabeth looked surprised, and Diana's lips twitched for the first time since they had begun speaking. "I was not lying; I _do_ know him very well. You did not have to tell me where he was for me to realize."

"I believe you. And he does too," Elizabeth gave her a look of sympathy. "Men do not like to know that their loved ones are a mystery to them, Diana."

"Is that why you are happy?" it was phrased like a question, but her tone was still flat. "Because Darcy knows you so well?"

Elizabeth shrugged. "We both know each other very well. We have had many misunderstandings, and they have taught us more about each other than we realized we needed to know."

"By that logic, Richard and I should be well-acquainted with each other by now. The sheer amount of misunderstandings we have had is ridiculous," Diana sighed, running a hand through her loose hair tiredly. She had run to the library almost immediately after her fight with Richard, knowing that he would not look for her anywhere else, merely go to her room and wait for her to return so he could speak to her. She did not want to talk to him, however, and she was glad Elizabeth had been the one to find her. The younger woman had been silently sympathetic, but now she was trying to get her to speak. However, Diana simply had no energy to talk about her problems, so they were at a standstill.

"Richard is stubborn," reminded Elizabeth. "You knew you would have conflicting opinions. You are both such proud people."

"And you and Darcy are not?"

Elizabeth sighed. "Did you not once tell me that no relationship is perfect?"

"I also told you men are horrid creatures," snorted Diana. "Take care when heeding my advice."

"You give excellent advice," said Elizabeth dismissively. "You are merely sitting here and pitying yourself now."

"And if I am?" Diana shrugged. "Women do it all the time, often ones with less money and smaller problems than I have."

"Problems?" Elizabeth raised a perfect, dark eyebrow. "Your only problem is that your betrothed loves you too much, and you know it."

Diana shook her head. "My problem is that he loves me more than he respects me," she did not look up from where her eyes had absently settled on an old vase of dried flowers. "I am not used to it. No doubt he thinks he is doing the right thing, but he cannot do only what _he_ thinks is best."

"He cannot always do what _you_ think is best either."

"Why not? I am right more often than he is."

"Yes, but a marriage is about compromise, not about who is right or wrong," said Elizabeth. Finally, Diana allowed her eyes to rest upon her new friend, quirking an eyebrow up. It was not exactly her most encouraging axtion, but Elizabeth accepted it. "What Richard did was wrong and unfair on you but, in his head, he was doing the right thing. You cannot fault a man for loving you too much, you can only fault him for his actions. After your reaction, do you really think he does not understand that things need to change?"

"Perhaps he does," acquiesced Diana. "What do I do with his understanding, then?"

"Tonight? Nothing. You need sleep," said Elizabeth firmly. "No one understands misunderstandings better than I, and things always look better after a night's rest. Would you like some company until you retire?"

Realizing that the conversation was officially over, Diana shook her head. "Far be it for me to keep Mrs. Darcy away from her husband for longer than I already have," the hint of teasing in her tone made Elizabeth smile and blush simultaneously. "I will be fine on my own. I am grateful you stayed for this long."

Elizabeth waved away her thanks and left the room after a few seconds of hesitation, but Diana paid her no mind. While she was still furious, she could agree with the new Mrs. Darcy on one thing – her actions had set her point across nicely. What Elizabeth had _not_ said, but Diana knew they had both been thinking, was that it had been out of turn. Richard had done much to deserve that slap, but a lesser man would not have hesitated to hit her back. Unwillingly, she was forced to be grateful, highlighting Elizabeth's point even more: Richard's biggest weakness was her, and nothing else.

Diana got up from the armchair she had claimed as her own shortly after her epiphany, brushing her loose hair off her shoulders lazily. It was nearing midnight, and she was positive no one would be prowling the halls to see her in her current state. Since Elizabeth had been so insistent on her retirement, she was sure Richard was gone from outside her room as well. She would retire, sleep until late the next morning claiming fatigue and then perhaps deign to forgive him, after having another look at the marriage license.

She was daydreaming about wedding-dresses and already phrasing a letter to her mother when her eyes fell onto a shadow at the end of the corridor. Stifling a gas, she froze. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. There was a candelabra burning on the table between her door and the guest-room next to hers, which cast off just enough light for her to see that the shadow was actually a person.

Richard was asleep outside her door.

For a second, she debated leaving him there, blowing out the candles and simply going to bed. But, it was cold – she was already chilly in her thin, dinner dress, and she could not see his coat around him. In addition, the distinct cut on his cheek made her bite her lip. It was not deep, and it was not bleeding, but it was still a mark and the fact that there was still a bit of dried blood clinging to his skin told her he had not bothered to even wash his face.

Sighing, Diana bent down and not unkindly nudged his shoulder with her hand. He did not stir. Rolling her eyes, she shook him more firmly, and he let out a deep groan before his eyes cracked open. They were bloodshot. What little sympathy she had for him immediately evaporated once she smelled the alcohol on him, but she forced herself not to stop.

"You need to go to bed," said Diana shortly, not bothering with pleasantries. Her heart ached, but not just for him; it was _because_ of him as well. "Get up. I will help you to your rooms."

"Diana, I need to –" his voice was scratchy, and she cut him off immediately.

"I will not have a conversation with you at this hour and in your current state about anything important, Richard," said Diana firmly. "Lord only knows we have done enough to bend the rules of proper conduct already, I would rather not do more. Get up," without waiting for a response, she grasped his elbow and tugged, her strength taking them both by surprise as he was on his feet within seconds. Diana avoided his eyes and gestured down the hallway she had just come from. "Let's go."

For a moment, she thought he might argue. However, she kept her eyes trained on her feet, her finger tapping not-so-subtly against the fabric on her side. She heard him sigh, and he offered her his arm. Diana hesitated, but grasped it, knowing she would be supporting him more than he would her.

She was right. In the few minutes it took them to reach his rooms, he leaned on her heavily, often closing his eyes and when he blinked and pressing the heel of his free hand against them, as if in pain. Any other time Diana would have been fretting and perhaps even scolding him, but not now. She was tired, and she was glad he was considerate enough not to try and speak to her about his faux-pas in their current state. She may be in a forgiving mood after getting some sleep, but should he bring it up now she was almost positive her previous anger would return and cause her to say something they would both be hurt by.

His room was larger than hers, and his bedclothes were rumpled; he had clearly been inside before. Diana let go of his arm at the door, folding her arms across her chest and looking at a point over his left shoulder. "I will see you tomorrow," she said stiffly. She made to walk away, and had taken two steps when she felt his hand touch her back gently, almost questioningly. She wanted to ignore him and walk away, but she could not. Sighing tiredly, she glanced back at him. The expression of utter heartbreak on his face made her bite her lip.

"Can I expect forgiveness?" he asked. His voice was tired and hoarse, but the hint of desperation in it was clear as day.

And just then, Diana knew she was no longer angry. She may be Richard's biggest weakness, but he was hers as well. She would never agree with his reasons, but she could understand them; the utter panic of being faced with the loss of someone you loved due to your own actions was something she was well-acquainted with. Hurt though she was that he clearly did not understand the depth of her affection for him, she would not go into that. Not tonight anyway.

Sighing, she retraced her steps and caressed his cheek with the back of her hand. Her fingers brushed against the mark on his cheek. "You do not deserve it," she told him. He closed his eyes and grasped her hand, his grip uncomfortably tight. Diana did not try to get him to release it. Instead, she rested her free hand against his chest, smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt absently. "But you've always gotten things you didn't deserve, haven't you?" her lips tugged up into the ghost of a smile, and his eyes opened to look at her wonderingly.

"Do you mean…?" he trailed off, a glint of hope coming back into his expression.

"You're not getting your ring back," she assured him. The flash in his eyes told her he had been considering that thought, and she once again pushed down the annoyance she felt at his presumptuousness. _Later_ , she told herself firmly. "But you need to sleep, and so do I," she finally tugged at her hand, and he loosened his grip on it reluctantly. "We _will_ talk about this tomorrow, Richard."

"As long as there is a tomorrow for us, my love," he cupped her hand in both of his gently and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. His downcast eyes missed the expression of pain that took over her face, and the way she bit her lip.

Diana did not answer.

* * *

 **Hello, my lovelies! Updating now without a lot of proof-reading because I JUST submitted my final assignment of the term and even though I have 2 weeks of uni left I am basically free now until January, so I thought I would treat you all (and myself!) with a new chapter!**

 **Loved the responses to last chapter, I wrote 3 different versions of that slap to occur at 3 different parts of the story, but tensions are running so very high now that I think I made the right decision to put it in here, don't you? That being said, I am expecting some criticism over Diana's attitude in this chapter. Let me offer a quick explanation - she is angry at him, and the fact that she shows him some affection at the end isn't meant to show that she's some weakling who needs a man in her life all the time. On the contrary, its because she _isn't_ like Richard that she does this. She doesn't run away from her problems, and unlike him she's willing to stick around and see how this thing plays out. Of course, she's angry and hurt, but she does still love him, warts and all. Added to the fact that he's going away soon, do cut her some slack before you attack her for not standing up to him more! I could have written angry Diana for chapters and chapters, but DON'T WE ALL JUST WANT A DAMN WEDDING?**

 **Also, there's always the sequel for unresolved issues... hint hint**

 **PHEW that's a lot said right there. Anyway, onto reviews (fave part of my AN, I gotta say). Many thanks to:**

 **MissThank22700: Omg congratulations, I hope you and the baby are doing well! So glad to have you back on the story, I look forward to reading your comments and I'm glad you have something to enjoy now on your rare rest days! xx**

 **Guest1: What a lovely thing to say, thank you very much! Hope you're enjoying the story xx**

 **Jansfamily4: I know, they're so frustrating! And yet, so charming... *sigh***

 **April: Hahaha yes you were right! The wedding is on its way, not to worry. I promise it'll be worth the wait!**

 **HarnGin: Men.. Always need to have everything spelled out for them in big, bold letters before they'll get the hint**

 **kris87: Glad you enjoyed it, haha, it really was overdue!**

 **SecretKeeper33: Haha I love reading your comments, I'm so glad you enjoy their interactions! Not so much of a fight or a make-up in this chapter, but I'm enjoying the various interactions with Darcy and Elizabeth for now! Don't worry, its ALL going to be worth the wait ;)**

 **catelyntully11: Faster updates are soon to come! Glad you're having fun, stay tuned!**

 **Motherof8: He's quite frustrating, but love is never simple!**

 **Guest2: Good summary! Yes, hopefully everything will be perfect soon!**

 **Guest3: Hahaha bless you, you've really captured how I portray Richard nicely! Glad I'm not the only one who sees him as an excellent character to develop. This update isn't exactly 24 hours later, but I hope you enjoy it anyhow! More to come soon xx**

 **Gaskellian: I hope you enjoyed this chapter! So much work needs to be done, but their relationship is definitely worth it. Stay tuned! xx**

 **Also, a special shoutout to a new reviewer who has just joined our ranks: _NikitaKaralis_! Thanks for reviewing so many of the old chapters, hope to hear from you again soon, your encouragement was lovely to read! xx**

 **And that's all for now, folks. I will be back before the end of the week with a new update, some details on how many chapters left, sequel, some one-shots etc. etc. Stay tuned, can't wait to hear from you all soon! (WE HAVE ALMOST HIT 300 REVIEWS THIS IS SO EXCITING!)**

 **Much love xx**


	42. Chapter 42

" _What_?"

Sarah winced. "Must you be so loud, mum?"

Diana glared. "Explain yourself. _Now_."

"I _told_ you, he asked me to marry him!"

"And you _refused_?"

"I could not very well say yes," said Sarah defensively. "We work together!"

"I wouldn't let either of you go if you told me you wanted to get married," persisted Diana. She threw the covers off her legs and got out of bed, snatching the brush from Sarah's hands which she had been brandishing as she tried to coax her mistress out of bed. Sarah had woken her up earlier than usual with a hunted look in her eye, and Diana had sleepily managed to mumble out the gist of her argument with Richard when Sarah had blurted out that she had been made an offer of marriage by John. And she had refused him. Diana was beside herself. "Why did you say no?" she demanded. "You said you liked him!"

"It is not right," said Sarah, her normally meek voice uncharacteristically firm. "We work together, and neither of us can afford to stop. You know I pay for my mother and sisters as well."

"And I have told you time and time again that _I_ will take over their expenses," Diana ran a hand through her hair in frustration. "You can both keep working for me after your marriage, the very idea that you would think I of all people would have a problem with the arrangement is absurd. You are looking for excuses to say no. What is your real reason?" Sarah bit her lip and looked down at her feet, and Diana sighed. "I knew it. What's happened?"

"He has been told to enlist," she murmured quietly. "They've always had a soldier in their family, and his brother died last month. His father is telling him to leave after Christmas."

Diana froze, her hand clamping down on her side-table to keep her balance. The thought of Richard leaving her had been devastating, but she had not cried. Now, when she saw her maid confronted with the same reality she had accepted months ago, she felt tears gather in her eyes. Wordlessly, she pulled Sarah into a hug, and the smaller woman shuddered for a moment before bursting into tears.

"It's alright," murmured Diana quietly. She patted Sarah on the back soothingly, her mind already working overtime. "You can still marry him. It can be before he leaves. I can help –"

Sarah shook her head vehemently, cutting her off. She stepped out of her embrace and wiped her eyes. "He will not come back," she hiccupped. "I know he won't, and you know it too."

Diana shook her head. "That is not true, Sarah."

"Don't lie to me, mum," she choked. Diana tried to hug her again, but Sarah shook her head and took another step back. Diana bit back the hurt at her actions. "We both know it's true. People like John go away to war, and they don't come back to their loved ones."

"You are overreacting," said Diana. She tried to be firm, but her voice shook. "Sarah, I am sending away someone I love to war as well. We have to trust that they will come back, or else we can never let them go."

"It isn't the _same_!" a fresh round of tears took her, and she sank onto the bed miserably, burying her face into her hands. Diana sat down next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and attempting to soothe her, but inwardly she knew she was the last person Sarah could derive comfort from. The harsh reality was that, unfortunately, Sarah was right. It was just something no one had ever thrown in Diana's face. Until now. "Your husband is a peer's son," sobbed Sarah. Diana did not correct her, merely grasped her hand comfortingly. "The Major General's life will always matter more than a mere soldier's, mum. It is sad and unfair but it is _true_. If John leaves, he won't come back."

"Sarah, if I could change that –"

"You can't," Sarah shook her head. "You can't change his fate, no one can."

Diana was silent for a while, merely soothing her as best she could. When Sarah was a little calmer, Diana spoke again, hesitantly. "If I could help you, I would."

"If something changes John's mind, I may change mine," said Sarah shakily. "As it is, mum, we both know that is not possible."

Diana sighed. "All the money in the world cannot change a man's mind. But," she tried again. "But, Sarah, if you would speak to him, explain it to him –" Sarah was already shaking her head, so Diana tried another tactic. "Have you tried asking him what he wants? Does he need more money? Is he being told to enlist by the law, or is his father pressurising him? If you could just –"

"I do not know these things, mum, and I do not want to know," Sarah sniffed one last time before picking up the clothes she had been taking away, wiping her eyes hastily. "I have already refused him, he will not ask again. You can rest for the morning, if you want," she added, making her way towards the door. "I will give these for washing and bring you something to eat."

"Sarah –" Diana tried to stop her, but she was already out the door. Frustrated, she threw down the brush she still held loosely and buried her face into her hands.

 **!**

"Morning, John."

"Major General," the footman nodded stiffly, straightening up and keeping his gaze fixed on a point slightly above Richard's right shoulder.

"Good weather," commented Richard, making his way towards his own horse and shaking his head at the stable-hand who came towards him. He watched the footman from the corner of his eye, slightly surprised to see the normally neat, mild-mannered man with slightly messy hair, dark circles under his eyes and a shovel in his hand – he could not remember Diana asking him to do outdoor work, and that too in the stables.

Despite his dishevelled appearance, John's eyes were alert, and he seemed confused by Richard's words. "Aye, sir," he agreed, slightly hesitant. "Fine morning for a ride."

Richard nodded, still keeping his eyes on his own horse. "Just on my way out. Has your mistress been downstairs?" his tone was casual.

John stopped what he was doing, the confusion evident on his face now. Richard turned to face him just as he blinked. "I wouldn't know, sir," he answered slowly. "I have not been inside."

Richard shrugged. "Has _she_ been outside, then?"

John looked incredibly uncomfortable now. Richard sighed and fixed his expression, allowing some of the confusion and pain he felt to be reflected on his face. "I saw her heading towards the stables from my window," he explained quietly. "I assume she went riding. The estate is large, she could get lost."

"Oh," John blinked. He still looked unsure, but slightly more at ease now. "My lady went for a walk and passed by the stables only long enough to ask me to meet with her after breakfast, sir. I offered to accompany her, or saddle a horse, but she said she was not going far."

"Thank you," Richard nodded and finished saddling his horse, leading it out of the stables and inwardly smiling at the way John pretended he had not seen him leave and returned to his work.

He did not have to ride long – there was a light sprinkling of snow on the ground and clear footprints were visible. Barely five minutes later, with the stable behind him and the house significantly out of sight, he saw a figure sitting on a low-hanging branch of a large tree at the edge of the park, right before the trails veered off into the vaster grounds. Diana's feet were lightly touching the ground and her dark hair was hidden beneath a woollen scarf, the ends just visibly brushing against her lower back. She was resting her head against the trunk, and even from a distance Richard could see that she was shaking slightly.

More concerned than anything else, he stopped his horse and left him untied, making his way to the base of the tree. If she heard him, she did not move. He went around to the other side, finally catching sight of her face and frowning when he saw that her shaking shoulders were not due to the cold, but the tears that fell from her eyes.

Their previous argument in mind, he wordlessly pulled himself up next to her on the branch, glad that she had chosen a relatively sturdy tree. Diana did not look at him, but she did use the heel of her hand to rub her eyes, roughly wiping away her tears. Richard reached for her fingers, relieved when she did not pull them out of his grasp. He pressed his lips to her knuckles; they were ice cold.

"You will fall ill if you stay out here," he said quietly. Other than the thick scarf and a light coat that was clearly not meant to be worn outside, Diana had no protection against the elements. Still, she did not look at him. Fighting to keep his annoyance out of his actions, he unwound his own scarf from around his neck and wrapped it around her like a shawl, pulling her closer to him as he did. To his surprise, Diana accepted his gesture and rested her head against him, turning her face towards his chest and sniffling quietly.

Bewildered, Richard wrapped his arms around her and smoothed the loose hair away from her face. "What is it?" he could not disguise the faint hint of panic in his voice. Diana did not answer. He tried not to growl in frustration. "Diana, what has happened?"

Finally, she looked up at him. "John asked Sarah to marry him," she said shakily.

Richard blinked in confusion. It took him longer than it normally would have to understand what she meant. "I see," he said slowly. "And she wants to leave?" Diana shook her head. He frowned. "Then why are you so upset?"

"Because he has enlisted," the tears came again, and Richard held her tightly as she sobbed against his chest. He understood now - her maid was going through what she had no doubt felt, and Diana's empathy knew no bounds. But the licence... Richard closed his eyes and sighed heavily. Of course, his decisions would have something to do with her heartache. Diana was stronger than other women; she was willing to deal with their separation as long as she had the assurance than when he turned they would be together, but he had dangled a hope in front of her that they could be together _before_ as well, failing to regard her wishes when he did so. He would not pretend to understand all her emotions, but he knew she was hurting.

Her tears had stopped. Richard tried to make her look up at him, but she would not. He sighed and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. "Can I do anything?" she did not answer. He tried again. "I _am_ sorry, my love. I did not mean to upset you so much."

Finally, he felt her shake her head. "I do not want apologies. I want you to change."

"Change?"

"Yes," she pulled away from him, just enough so they were at eye-level, but still close enough that he could see the fresh tears rolling down her cheeks. "You cannot make decisions for us, Richard. You need to talk to me about them."

"Darling, I will do anything if you just stop crying," he begged.

Diana's eyes glinted dangerously. " _No_. That is not how it will work. Just because I cry, or because you are _leaving_ , it does not mean we cannot talk about the hundred things that are clearly wrong with us!"

He bristled, and immediately he knew she could tell the change in his attitude. "You can hardly call a few issues _wrong_ –"

"– any more than you can say making decisions about _my_ life _for_ me is alright!" persisted Diana. "Richard, you told me you trusted no one to look after me except _me_ , and yet you did not tell me about the license!"

"I was worried about your reaction!" argued Richard. "I hid it because revealing it to you would have felt like pressure!"

"That isn't your decision to make!"

"How is it not?" he demanded. "I want to marry you; your troubles should be mine."

"And yours should be mine," snapped Diana. "Did you ever think of _that_?"

"You have had enough troubles, Diana, you do not need mine as well."

"I _want_ them," she sighed, deflating slightly when she realized her anger was getting them nowhere. "We cannot go on like this. I want to marry you, and be with you, and the truth is if you had talked to me about the license we would have been married by now."

Richard frowned when she stopped speaking. "Which of those things has changed, then?"

"None," Diana shrugged helplessly. "I am a strong woman, but I do not want to be miserable. I _should_ put off our wedding, at the very least until you and I figure out what we want from this marriage, because right now it is clear we want very different things."

Richard had been clenching his teeth as she spoke, until her actual stance registered in his mind. Her words offered him a solution, and he let out a breath he had not realized he had been holding. Finally, _finally_ a way to redeem himself. "You're wrong."

"Am I?" Diana sighed. "I have been right more often than you have, Richard."

"You've been right about my actions, yes, but not _why_ I do what I do," he gathered both of her cold hands into his, absently rubbing against her palms to warm them up but also to encourage her to look at him, which she did. "Have you ever doubted my love for you?"

Diana shook her head. "That is one thing you've done right, I suppose."

Her wry tone prompted his speech further. "I have never given you cause to doubt _my_ affection, or _my_ actions. Everything I have done, I have done because of other people."

"Yes, you let yourself be influenced by others who should have no say in our relationship," said Diana tiredly. "I already know that, Richard."

"That isn't true," he allowed himself a small smile. "You remember when my aunt made it clear she was unhappy about our engagement?"

"How can I forget?" Diana muttered bitterly.

He squeezed her hands in comfort. "You remember how I spoke to her?"

He saw the spark of recognition in her eyes. "Yes."

He nodded, satisfied. "And Janet Dubois?"

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "That as well, yes."

"Do you see what I mean, then?" she looked hesitant, and he ploughed on. "I would do anything to protect you, Diana. I have made mistakes, but with every mistake I swear to you, I thought it would make things better. The way I spoke to those women could have gone horribly wrong, but I did it because I do not care about consequences when it comes to you, not anymore. But I _did_ ," he sighed. "I left the first time because I was scared you would grow to resent me, or hate me if we tried to get married when I had nothing. And then I came back, and after everything when you could still stand to look at me and speak to me, I vowed I would not ruin my chance, _any_ chance to have you in my life. I wanted a friendship with you, not because I did not love you, but because I loved you too much to risk injuring you in some way."

"You don't have to –" she tried to stop him, he could tell she had seen the pain in his eyes, the great effort it took him to say all this, but he would not stop. Their biggest mistake had always been assuming they knew exactly what the other person was thinking – now, he would say it all.

"When I told you I was leaving and you reacted that way, it was the first time I allowed himself to hope that you could love me, despite everything that told me it would lead to heartache. And then I asked you to marry me in that ridiculous way, _never_ expecting that one day this would happen," he removed one of his hands to touch her cheek, wiping away the tear-tracks and willing her to see his sincerity in his eyes. "I hid the licence from you, because I never want you to feel as if you have to do something solely because it is what _I_ would want. You deserve so much more than to cater to the whims of someone like me, my love, and my worst nightmare is that one day you will wake up and realize your biggest mistake was marrying me, whatever the circumstances may be."

He stopped, taking in a shallow breath and fixing his eyes onto their joined hands. The only sound that could be heard was the slight rustling of the trees around them, and the impatient snorting of his horse.

Diana was the one who broke the silence. "You ought to have proposed with that speech," she whispered. When he looked up at her, he saw that there were tears in her eyes, but she was smiling brighter than he had seen her smile in over a day, and that alone made his heart lighter.

"Consider it a long-overdue second proposal," he said lightly.

Diana tilted her head to the side, still smiling. "You mean that?"

"It is what you want."

"It does not always have to be about what I want," this time, it was _she_ who let go of their hands to caress _his_ face. Her cool skin brushing against the obvious mark on his cheek was oddly soothing. "All I meant was that I want us to talk about important things, because your love blinds you. It makes you do things that you feel are right, but I do not like being protected so much. I know how to handle life, Richard."

"I do not doubt that."

"Then I need you to trust me," those soulful eyes would end him one day, he knew it, but he could not bring himself to look away. "If you are to leave me for so long, you need to be able to trust me."

"You know I trust you above all others."

"You trust my word, not my judgement. There is a difference."

"I can learn to do both," said Richard slowly. "Is that what you want?"

Diana nodded, her eyes sparkling with a bit of her old vibrancy. "Just trying is enough, darling. And I will try to understand that you do irrational, stupid things only because you love me."

Richard snorted. "Charming."

"Lightening the mood," teased Diana. Then she turned serious. "Do you really think I could ever consider our marriage a mistake?"

His first instinct was to say no, but her words rang out in his mind, and he painstakingly shrugged. "I do not know," he admitted quietly. "After we fight, sometimes, I do worry."

"Couples fight," said Diana gently. "Fighting does not mean the love is fading, Richard. It means there is something worth fighting _for._ It is true for other couples, and it is true for us as well. I would _never_ consider us a mistake."

"You say that now, but –" he tried to argue.

" _Trust me_."

Richard sighed. "You win."

Her answering smile was delighted. "You are learning."

"I have been told I am a fast learner, yes."

She giggled. "Well, you may be pleased to learn that you and I clearly want at least _one_ of the same things."

"And that is?"

Diana brushed his hair out of his eyes. "Society be damned. Marry me."

Richard blinked. "N-now?" he stammered.

"Do you have something more interesting planned for today?"

"Diana, you cannot just –"

"I thought you wanted to do things I wanted?" her tone was so convincing that Richard immediately opened his mouth to reassure her, until he caught the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. He closed his mouth then, giving her a sour look. She laughed lightly, inching closer and resting her forehead against his. "We can do it, can we not?"

"Maybe not this very second, but today, yes," Richard brushed his nose against hers affectionately, smiling when she wrinkled her nose at his gesture. "If you're serious."

"It's what I want, and it's what you want."

"People will talk."

Diana shook her head. "Other people can no longer be our concern. This marriage is between you and I."

"Diana," Richard sighed. "If you agree to this now, there is no backing out. I will leave, but when I return I will still be your husband."

"I know," to his surprise, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I can't wait."

* * *

 **HELLLOOO BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE!**

 **Oh, this one makes me happy. So, so happy. I am giddy. Does it make you giddy? I hope it does!**

 **I'm being evil and milking out this new dynamic for as long as I can before we get to the actual wedding, but I don't think anyone will complain? They're just so damn cute AAAHAHHH.**

 **Reviewers, thank you:**

 **marinette68: i couldn't wait to hit 300, but thank you anyway! Hope you enjoy the chapter xx**

 **NikitaKaralis: Thank you! hope you enjoyed this one**

 **Motherof8: Almost there now!**

 **April: Talking has begun, stay tuned for more!**

 **Deanna27: You never know!**

 **LovePP: No agreement yet (or has there been one?) but the conversation has finally happened!**

 **Jasnfamily4: Soon, soon! Thanks for sticking around! x**

 **HarnGin: LOL, I would agree with that except the time they're living in is very different from ours, after all. But more on this in the next chapter, so watch out for it!**

 **Gaskellian: thanks for the encouragement, glad you enjoyed my portrayal of them. Next chapter will be slightly lighter, but now that the truth has been exposed so to speak there's plenty more where that came from!**

 **Enjoy this chapter, guys. Next update coming soon - I'm travelling at the end of the week so I will try and update before Thursday, or else you will have a new chapter by next week. Thanks for reading, much love! xx**


	43. Chapter 43

"So, he is enlisting?"

Diana nodded sadly. "I want to change his mind, but I do not think I can."

Richard hummed thoughtfully. "I could speak to him."

"You would?"

"He isn't required by law to enlist, is he?"

Diana shrugged helplessly. "Sarah does not know. I left this morning before she came back."

"You ought to have a word with her," Richard nudged her shoulder. "I do not think you've ever told me you fought with her."

"Because I never have," sighed Diana. "I had no friends before I met you. She was all I had. In many ways, she is _still_ all I have."

"I would like to think I outrank her now, my love."

"Not until the vows are said, I'm afraid."

Richard laughed lightly, adjusting his arm so he could pinch her shoulder teasingly. They had not moved for a while, though he was sure they still had some time before anyone would come searching for them. The tree was uncomfortable, to be sure, but Diana seemed quite content to remain where they were, so he had not argued.

"We should probably go back inside," she voiced his thoughts, the reluctance clear in her tone.

"We should," Richard made no move to return to the ground. "Do you want to?"

Diana wrinkled her nose and looked up at him curiously. "What are you thinking?"

"We could go to the church _now_ …"

"And risk the wrath of your mother?" Diana snorted dismissively, but cuddled closer to him nevertheless. "I do not think I will."

Her words made him smile, but only for a moment. "Speaking of which," he tugged on a lock of her hair lightly. "What about _your_ mother?"

Diana froze for a second before slumping against his chest, letting out an annoyed huff. "What about her?"

"Do you want to wait until –"

"No more waiting," she said firmly. "And I do not plan to tell her about this yet."

Richard frowned. "You do not plan to tell her we are getting married earlier than planned?"

"She can find out on her own."

Richard was shaking his head before she was done speaking. "That is absurd. She is your mother."

"She hates this match, she is the reason I lost you in the first place," Diana's voice trembled only slightly. "I will marry you before you leave, and today if we can. The Darcys are having a Christmas ball in less than five days, everyone of importance will be attending and will find out then. I will write a letter to my mother soon after."

"Diana, if you do this then people will think –"

"In any normal circumstances, they would have assumed I was with child," Richard winced as she spoke, even though her voice was blank, factual. "The whole of London knows that is not possible. I want to marry you before you leave, it is as simple as that. Is that not what you want?" she looked up at him, her head still comfortably resting against his chest.

"Of course it is," said Richard immediately. She raised a sceptical eyebrow. "I want it more than anything, I told you never to doubt that."

"Then I fail to see the problem."

"There is no _problem_ ," he sighed. "But I will leave, Diana," she winced. He tried to ignore it and ploughed on. " _You_ will have to deal with the people, the loneliness, all of the incessent questions, and neither of us can promise it will end soon," they locked eyes, and despite the love he saw mirrored in her gaze, he tried desperately to convey his worries. "Can you do it alone?"

"I don't know," she admitted quietly.

"Then how can I –"

"Because it will be worth it," she smiled softly and cupped his cheek with her hand. " _You_ are worth it."

 **!**

 _"Today?"_

 _"Oh_ , how exciting!"

"Well, that certainly took longer than expected."

"Richard, are you _insane_?"

Diana threw her brother-to-be an apologetic look, but he was too focused on hounding his brother and asking him if he had truly lost his mind to pay her any attention. Lady Fitzwilliam was looking from her husband to the couple in front of them in bewilderment, having not uttered a word except her initial one-word exclamation. The earl looked thoughtful, but the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth reassured Diana somewhat. Elizabeth looked positively smug, whilst Darcy was watching his sister with affection and amusement; he caught Diana's eye and threw her a quick wink just as Georgiana finished vocalising her happiness and threw herself into the older woman's arms. She just barely managed to return the girl's enthusiastic hug before she was hanging off Richard and chattering away to Elizabeth at her side, already discussing flowers for Diana's hair from the hot-houses – apparently, the young Miss Darcy had a green thumb.

" _Not_ the reaction I was expecting," Diana muttered to Richard quietly, stepping closer to him almost reflexively as his relations gathered around them both, not paying the couple any attention and continued to talk over each other loudly.

Richard gave her a look. "Did you expect anything less?"

"I did expect a great deal more _shock_ , yes."

Richard snorted. "They get to claim ownership of you sooner rather than later, my love. The thought has them all positively giddy," a sly smirk spread across his lips. "I cannot say the idea is altogether unappealing myself."

Diana blushed crimson and turned away from him immediately, allowing the three women to drag her away with Lady Fitzwilliam in the lead, already in conversation with Mrs. Reynolds. She had just enough time to catch a glimpse of Richard's face as he realized he was being left alone with his father and brother when the door shut behind them.

Diana did not have time to dwell on his predicament. "Do not worry about a thing," murmured Emily comfortingly as she slipped an arm through hers. "We will do _everything_."

"Thank you," Diana squeezed her hand. "You don't know how grateful I am."

"You both deserve some happiness," Emily smiled sadly. "In all honesty, I am surprised it took so long for someone to think of a license."

She shrugged. "I am glad it was thought of, even if it is as late as now. I am tired of doing what other people want."

"You can do whatever _you_ want now, darling," chimed in Lady Fitzwilliam. She already looked flustered, but her beaming face assured them all that she was pleased. "And I do mean that literally," she added. "Out you go, now."

Diana blinked. "Out?"

"Yes. Out," the older woman nodded. "You may come back in once everything is prepared."

"What needs preparation?" Diana frowned in confusion.

"My dear," Lady Fitzwilliam huffed. "Just because we have one day, it does not mean we cannot give you a proper wedding!"

"I – pardon me?" Diana looked from the countess to Elizabeth helplessly, but Mrs. Darcy merely smiled and winked. "You want to do _what_?"

"That seems to be the choice word of the day," said Georgiana in her usual mild way, but her eyes were glinting with happiness and mischeif. "Oh, Diana, this is _so_ exciting! There hasn't been a wedding at Pemberley in years!"

"Not since you can remember anyway, miss," Mrs. Reynolds smiled affectionately at the young girl before turning her kindly eyes to Diana. "You don't fret about a thing now, my lady. We will do whatever needs to be done. You just go on and enjoy yourself for a while, leave the worrying to us."

"I cannot do that," protested Diana even as Emily and Georgiana began to steer her away. "I do not even _want_ a lavish affair."

"A proper wedding does not have to be one that only the ladies of London would enjoy," sniffed Lady Fitzwilliam. "What it _does_ have to be is special."

"Let it go, Diana," murmured Emily in her ear as the housekeeper, the lady of the house and the countess strode away. "She needs this."

Diana allowed herself to be led away, but began to protest as soon as the other women were out of sight. "Emily, I do not want –"

"Darling, be sensible," Emily gave her a pointed look. "You have _had_ a lavish wedding, have you not?"

"Yes, of course! I do not want _another_ one."

Emily smiled sympathetically. "Aren't you forgetting something? It is not just _your_ wedding, is it?"

Realization dawned upon her at that, and Emily's knowing look intensified. "She's never planned a wedding for him before," said Diana quietly.

"And she doesn't know if she'll be able to," said Georgiana quietly. Both the older women jumped, almost having forgotten she was there.

Diana hung her head guiltily, but Emily patted her arm. "She is right, you know; a special wedding does not have to be a grand, large affair. It really only matters who is attending."

That was true. And the people who mattered would be attending - more important than anything else, Richard would be there. And after the wedding, he would be _hers._ Diana smiled slightly at the thought. "I suppose that does sound quite nice."

 **!**

"I cannot decide if I should be ecstatic or worrying for your sanity," said Henry dryly as he accepted the glass of scotch his father had poured out.

Richard refused the glass offered to him, his antics from his last experience with alcohol still fresh in his mind. "A little bit of both is just what I expect from you, dear brother."

The earl chuckled at that, and even Darcy cracked a smile. Henry raised an eyebrow. "Touché. I see Diana's wit is rubbing off on you already."

Richard rolled his eyes. "Must your admiration for my fiancé always be at the cost of my self-esteem?"

"Your self-esteem can handle whatever we throw at it, of that I am positive."

"When you two are quite finished," interrupted Lord Fitzwilliam calmly. "Richard, there are things we must discuss."

Richard groaned. "What _now,_ father?"

His father did not even bat an eyelid at his son's childish behaviour. "For one thing, I will contact the lawyers tomorrow and ensure they have a new settlement drawn up for your marriage –"

"Everything of consequence is already taken care of," Darcy spoke for the first time since the ladies had left. "I took the liberty of contacting your lawyers, uncle. Richard has all the necessary papers."

"You did?" the earl looked relieved. "Your aunt was right, William. You have thought of everything."

"Another skill Richard cannot boast of possessing," added Henry, his eyes glinting.

Richard pretended to look wounded. "And now you compare me to my most beloved cousin!"

"'Tis the duty of an older brother. Speaking of duties," Henry cleared his throat, swirling around the contents of his glass and suddenly looking very interested in the liquid in it. "You are, of course, aware that there are certain things expected on your wedding night, and as such –"

"If you even think to complete that sentence, Henry, I will be forced to pick you up and toss you from the window of the highest floor of Pemberley."

Henry held his hands out in surrender. "Noted, Richard."

"Thank you," said Richard quickly. "Now, does anyone have anything of consequence to say before I excuse myself from your _wonderful_ company?"

"Only that we wish you joy, son," Lord Fitzwilliam smiled and clapped his youngest son on the shoulder, his typical way of displaying affection.

Richard nodded, accepting his father's words. "Yes, thank you, father. Darcy?" he raised an eyebrow, knowing his cousin would have something to say.

Darcy shrugged. "My wife often says that happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance," Richard could not help but guffaw at that. "Whether or not she is jesting is still a mystery to me, but I do know this; if there are any two people of my acquaintance who have earned a happy marriage, it is the two of you."

"Hear, hear!" Henry held his glass up and clinked it with Darcy's forcefully, drowning the contents in one go and winking at his brother. Richard rolled his eyes, but smirked back.

* * *

 **Hello, again! Okay, I admit, I'm drawing this out way longer than tolerable but I promise its necessary, this story is about so much more than just the relationship of one couple that I felt like I _had_ to devote a whole chapter to the reactions of everyone around them. But, I promise the next chapter will be what we've ALL been waiting for - the wedding _AND ..._ guess.**

 **Also, just a question. I know the story is rated T, so are we all _really_ interested in the finer details of what happens tomorrow *cough cough*, or is it something better left to the imagination? I can't decide!**

 **Many thanks to my reviewers:**

 **tarlily: Yup, its happening!**

 **HarnGin: So many problems to be resolved, so little time! Fingers crossed, and happy holidays to you too xx**

 **Deanna27: Wedding is next, John's fate is still uncertain!**

 **LovePP: Yup, the ceremony is up next, glad you enjoyed the last chapter. Sarah's situation is sad, but its a sad reality of the time.**

 **Gaskellian: You're a clever one! We've got Richard on board already, let's see what else I've got up my sleeve!**

 **Lady Michief: That's the plan, stay tuned to find out!**

 **Jansfamily4: Your love for Richard is admirable, but tripping on the way to his horse seems a little strange for someone like him, don't you think? Hahaha fear not, I will try to make the next chapter worthy of excitement as well x**

 **catelyntully11: I'm excited to write the wedding as well, sorry for the wait!**

 **SecretKeeper33: Thank you so much, that means so much! Hopefully the next chapter will be more excitable than this one!**

 **Motherof8: Next chapter is the wedding, I promise!**

 **Kss: I know, took them long enough!**

 **April: Its happening!**

 **EmlynMara: Very true, life is never perfect. Hopefully they'll have some happiness before he leaves.**

 **Also, we have over 300 reviews and that makes me so happy! I'm aiming for more, so please do tell me how the story is going for you so far, constructive criticism is always welcome! See you next weekend with another update, I make no promises because my best friend is getting married this weekend and I have a ridiculous amount of bridesmaid duties to do - also, I have wedding fever, so at least you know the next chapter will be awesome!**

 **Until next time, my dears. Much love xx**


	44. Chapter 44

The strong smell of roses hit Diana as soon as she stepped into her room, and she blinked. Having whiled away over an hour in the library, she had been promptly kicked out of the first floor of the house by Elizabeth, who had banished her to her room to begin getting ready – the ceremony would be later that evening. Everyone had expected her to start at the news, or show some form of surprise at the fact that it was to be so soon. However, Diana had merely smiled widely, kissed Elizabeth's cheek and run upstairs; they could have come to collect her for the ceremony at that moment and she would have gone with them without hesitation.

Nevertheless, _this_ was a surprise. Clearly, her absence from her bedroom had been planned. Someone had added vases of fresh, brightly coloured roses to the writing-desk, her bedside table and the small window-seat. There was a distinctly unfamiliar dress laid out on the bed, along with her lace shawl and a set of innerwear she was sure she had not seen before, and everything had been sprinkled with rose petals as well. Closing the door softly behind her, she inched into the room and blinked when she felt something touch her foot. Upon looking down, she saw a bunch of carnations laying on the ground with a sealed envelope perched on top, her name written in a familiar, slightly untidy hand.

Since there was no one present, Diana sat down on the floor cross-legged and picked up the envelope, glancing at it curiously but opting to examine the bouquet first. It was simply wrapped, with pink, red and white flowers and a few sprigs of green. Diana did not need a dictionary to know what they meant, and she could not help but smile. With the flowers in one hand and the envelope in another, she made her way to the desk and made room in the large vase, untying the ribbon from around the bouquet and setting the flowers into the water carefully. Once she was done, she finally opened the letter.

 _My dearest Diana_

 _You are no doubt aware by now that my family have taken it upon themselves to throw us what they are calling a "proper wedding". I have no objection, of course – you deserve the most perfect wedding imaginable. However, it does mean that my mother is insisting that I do not see you before the ceremony, as it would be bad luck. Needless to say, I do not agree with her, but luck has not always been on my side when it comes to us, so I will not push fate today. Sarah was kind enough to help me leave the flowers in your room, and if you look out your window presently, you may catch a glimpse of me as I attempt to avoid my mother and her endless list of things I must do for the wedding._

 _All my love  
Richard._

Diana hesitated for all of two seconds before dashing up to the window, almost knocking over one of the vases as she squinted out against the strong afternoon sun. Sure enough, she spotted Richard in the courtyard her window looked out into, holding little Henry's hand as he knelt before him. Almost as if he knew she was watching, he turned his face up and caught her eye. Diana could not help the smile that grew on her face, and she touched the window-pane gently, wishing she did not have to be so far away from him. Richard winked and tapped Henry's shoulder, indicating where the little boy should look. He immediately blew her half a dozen kisses and waved excitedly, and Diana laughed quietly as the sounds of his giggles infiltrated her room.

 **!**

It was decided that the ceremony would take place in the house, and Darcy had managed to talk the minister into performing it right before sunset. As odd a time as it was – Diana could not remember hearing of a wedding that occurred so late in the day – it suited everyone just fine. The giggling hoard of women who had insisted on helping Diana get ready took longer than necessary, all too busy talking and laughing to pay attention to the time. She had no idea how Richard was faring since, true to his word, they had not seen each other since he had left that wonderful message in her room and she had spied him from her window.

"You look so beautiful," sighed Lady Fitzwilliam, her eyes suspiciously wet as she patted Diana's head. Elizabeth, Georgiana and Emily murmured in agreement while Sarah smiled, but Diana noticed the way her hands twitched when the countess' hands made contact with the hairstyle her maid had worked on for two hours.

Diana smiled her thanks, gave Sarah a reassuring look and glanced at herself in the mirror for what felt like the millionth time. It was hitting her now, she was _finally_ marrying Richard, but the odd sense of detachment still had not left her. She _did_ look nice, however, that was something she could see and appreciate. The dress was incredible; apparently Sarah had come prepared with a variety of new gowns and trimmings that would aid in an emergency. While Diana could recall the time, money and effort that had gone into her previous dress, she found that she hardly cared for extravagance this time. The dress was pretty, and she knew Richard admired the colour against her skin, so she was appeased. The lace contrasted with the sky-blue colour nicely, and accentuated her blue eyes. Her dark hair was piled up in an intricate style, and she had opted out of wearing a veil or a bonnet since they were to stay inside.

By the time there was a knock at the door to inform them that everything was ready downstairs, Diana was prepared. There was a flurry of activity as the door opened – flowers were picked up from odd places, Sarah filled her arms with the clothes that she would put away later, and Lady Fitzwilliam clicked her tongue disapprovingly at the mess they were leaving behind. However, soon enough they were filing out of the room quickly.

"Are you nervous?" asked Emily, falling into step next to Diana as she absently tucked her hair behind her ears and smoothed the wrinkles out of her gown.

Diana took a moment to fix the brooch that had gotten trapped between the lace of her collar and her shawl before answering. "I have spent so long waiting for this that it would be truly foolish of me to be afraid now."

Emily squeezed her hand and opened her mouth to speak, but they had reached the first floor and suddenly Mrs. Reynolds was there, pointing out the way they were to go and wait while the men summoned the minister and got everything prepared in one of the parlours.

"We ought to go in and help them," sighed Emily. She kissed Diana's cheek hurriedly and slipped past the closed doors of the music-room where they had all been sent. Elizabeth shrugged and followed, blowing Diana a kiss and giving her an encouraging smile. Georgiana threw her arms around Diana and joined them.

"I suppose they wanted to give us some time to talk," hummed Lady Fitzwilliam thoughtfully, already seated on one of the sofas. Diana laughed, feeling slightly breathless, before joining her. The older woman squeezed her hand affectionately. "Are you happy, my dear?"

"Of course," Diana nodded and smiled, her eyes landing on her ring, which twinkled in the candlelight.

"Richard said you will write to your mother later?"

Not even the mention of Mina Harris could dampen her spirits, so Diana merely shrugged. "I do not need parental consent, my lady. Mother will find out soon enough. I just –" she hesitated, Lady Fitzwilliam's old friendship and affection for her mother in her mind, but ploughed on anyway after a moment. "I would like to share the news with people who would be happy for me first, rather than dealing with the backlash."

To her credit, Lady Fitzwilliam did not even blink. She leaned forward and kissed Diana's forehead gently. "I trust your judgement," she said kindly. "But I do have one request?"

"Yes?"

"Do stop calling me by that silly title," Diana raised her eyes and met the older woman's gaze, the surprise clear on her face. Lady Fitzwilliam's eyes were twinkling. "Richard and Henry and even Emily call me mamma. Can you not do the same?"

"I – I suppose," stammered Diana. Lady Fitzwilliam smiled in amusement, and Diana blushed. "I mean, I would be delighted to."

The countess looked delighted, but there was something in her eyes that made Diana hesitate. There was joy, to be sure, and the tell-tale shine of repressed tears, but behind it all there was _sorrow._ And Diana realized she knew exactly _why_ it was there, and she was sure Lady Fitzwilliam saw the same emotion reflected in her own eyes. The older woman's expression softened and, as if on cue, she touched Diana's cheek gently, as if to say "I know how you feel." Diana inclined her head in response, knowing no words would be necessary. The two woman smiled at each other, and Diana willed herself not to cry. Fortunately, the door opened at that moment, and their gazes flickered to the intruder immediately. It was Darcy. He bowed stiffly. "Aunt. My lady."

"Always so formal," muttered Lady Fitzwilliam under her breath.

The spell was broken. Diana shook herself out of the curious sadness she had begun to feel and nodded in agreement. "I do hope you will stop with that once I am married," she said, fighting to keep her tone light.

Darcy smiled. "I will try. Aunt, they need you inside. The minister has arrived, now all we await is the bride."

As Lady Fitzwilliam stood up to leave, Diana realized that she was finally to be left alone, and the thought made her sigh.

"What is it, dear?" asked the countess immediately. Her eyes flashed with concern. "Are you well?"

"Quite well, my lady," assured Diana. "It is nothing, I –" at the look her soon-to-be mother-in-law gave her, however, Diana backtracked hastily. "I just realized there is no one to give me away, that is all."

"That is not entirely true," interjected Darcy. "I was hoping you would allow me the honour of giving you away, my lady."

"Oh, this is wonderful!" without waiting for her answer, Lady Fitzwilliam clapped her hands together in excitement and pressed a quick kiss to Diana's cheek. "I will just go inform the others to be ready for you, then. Listen for the music!" and she was gone.

Darcy shifted awkwardly when she left. "I understand if you would prefer Henry or my uncle to do it, but I did not want you to feel as though you are entirely dependent upon Richard's father and brother in his absence. Besides," his downcast eyes finally rose to meet hers. "I know what it feels to not have a parent present during the most important day of your life."

Diana bit her lip. "My mother –"

"I was not referring to her."

"Oh," Diana blinked, but did not correct him. She had not realized that Richard had shared her partiality for her father with his cousin.

Darcy sat down in the countess' vacant spot. His voice was kind. "You are allowed to grieve, Diana."

She shook her head, not even noticing that he was finally using her Christian name. "We both know why it is unseemly for me to do so."

"He was your father, the circumstances should not matter to you," said Darcy quietly. "I cannot replace him, but allow me to do the one thing we both know he would have loved to do himself."

Diana did not answer, knowing that it would be impossible to stomp out years of training and instruction in just one day. However, she was glad it was Darcy offering to give her away and not someone else; they had both been orphans in one way or another, and the loss of a family was something she knew nobody in Pemberley could appreciate better than him. The beginning of the wedding-march could be heard as she sat thinking, so Diana smiled a little and held out her hand.

Darcy took it, accepting her silence easily. They stood near the doors, waiting for the precise moment when they would be opened. Surprisingly, Darcy was the one to break the quiet. "You have been a good friend to my wife."

"Have I?" hummed Diana, still straining to hear the music.

"You have, and that too when she needed it the most. I have not thanked you properly for that, I fear."

"If we do not acknowledge the fact that I am currently getting married on your property," commented Diana dryly. Darcy's lips twitched. "Besides, you do not need to thank me, Darcy. I truly enjoy being Elizabeth's friend."

Darcy nodded, his lips tugging up into a smile. "That only makes both myself and Elizabeth want to thank you even more.

Diana turned to smile at him, a reply ready in her mind, but a footman opened the door at that moment and suddenly the music was louder in her ears and she could hear the voices immediately hush as soon as the eyes of the occupants of the room fell upon them. Diana looked up and caught Henry's eye, who was smiling encouragingly while patting a dozing Margaret on the back. Her eyes flicked from person to person quickly: Sarah was standing in a corner twisting her apron in her hands and beaming, Emily was dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief, little Henry was peering at her curiously from under his grandfather's arm, even John stood in a corner rather stiffly but smiling nevertheless, Elizabeth looked like her face would crack from smiling, and Richard was –

He was _there_. Diana felt her cheeks turn pink, and she was aware of Darcy gently dragging her across the room towards the make-shift altar where the minister stood with her husband-to-be. However, she did not care. A shy smile spread across her face when she caught Richard's eye, and he winked at her conspiratorially. He was dressed in his regimentals, something she had not expected but realized now was a fairly obvious choice of attire. Making a mental note to tell him just _how_ much she admired the uniform, she allowed her gaze to linger on his face when Darcy finally stopped a few feet away.

The minister, an old man with kindly green eyes, offered her a warm smile she barely saw before turning to face the rest of the room. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God…"

Diana caught Richard's eye and immediately knew she would not hear a word that would be said that day. She had paid close attention the first time she had gotten married, but this time she did not have to. Not only was she aware of exactly what her marriage would entail this time around, she was relieved to discover that she did not want to avoid the eyes of the man next to her. in fact, even as the minister spoke of the laws of men and God and how matrimony was the holiest of all unions, all she could do was stare at her husband – for she had decided that she could call him nothing else now that they were finally at the altar.

His slightly tousled hair told her he had been running his hands through it, a sure sign of nerves, though why he would be anxious was beyond her – she had never felt more calm in her life. His eyes were trained on her face, the same look of adoration that she had come to love shining in them fiercely. She knew she was being inappropriate. She could practically _feel_ Darcy's smirk and the eyes of Richard's family trained upon her as she refused to look away from him. She simply could _not_ stop; she was surprised she had even noticed that he was in uniform. What she _did_ notice, however, was that the bright red carnation in his lapel matched the ones in her room quite perfectly.

"Richard?" Diana's eyes snapped to the minister, whose lips were conspicuously twitching. Blushing crimson when she realized that neither of them had been listening to him – even Richard had been too busy staring at her, she realized suddenly – she forced herself to pay attention. Next to her, Richard merely chuckled quietly but inclined his head to show he was no longer distracted. The minister cleared his throat. "Wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honour, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?"

"I will," the lack of waver in his voice made her heart swell. When the minister turned his eyes to her and repeated the question, Diana almost snapped at him in her eagerness to say the same, and the minister looked like he dearly wanted to laugh.

"Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?" he asked, eyeing Darcy curiously.

Darcy stepped forward and said his name quietly, placing her right hand in Richard's gently. He gave his cousin a wry smile, offered her a slightly warmer one, and stepped down, leaving the two alone with the minister.

The machinations were a blur as soon as their skin touched. Diana was aware of the instruction to step forward, words being said, and being prompted by the kindly minister to speak when required, but her eyes remained fixed on Richard's face, as his were on hers. The cold metal of a ring as it slipped onto her left hand jolted her back to reality, and she glanced down at the simple golden band curiously for a moment, finally forcing herself to stop _staring_ at Richard and actually _look_ at him. He noted the alertness of her eyes, and his hand lingered against hers.

He cleared his throat, alerting her to the fact that he was going to speak. "With this Ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow: In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen."

Diana's lips twitched at the statement; despite the fact that a hundred other grooms had probably said the same words to their own blushing brides, she felt her heart swell at the vow. Now, _finally,_ he was hers.

As the minister indicated that they should kneel, Diana felt a weight lift off of her shoulders. She was no longer alone, and that was all that mattered.

* * *

 **HAPPY NEW YEAR!**

 **YES FINALLY THEY ARE MARRIED.**

 **I'M SO LATE WITH THIS CHAPTER BUT I REALLY WANTED TO DO JUSTICE TO THE WEDDING.**

 **I could have gone on and on about it but no matter which POV I would have chosen I just knew neither of these two would have appreciated a long, drawn-out description of flowers and clothes and people - they have each other and that's really all that matters to either of them.**

 **Also I have realized (perhaps rather belatedly and a little pompously) that some of the reviews I get are amazing and I would love to delve into conversation with most of you, so after this chapter I'll be replying to you via PM so we can have nice, long chats about everything you liked and hated (or I could just say thank you and you could ignore me, that's fine too!). So forgive me for no review replies this chapter, just know I love you all very much and I hope you enjoy this - can't say I 100% enjoyed writing it but I felt like, with regards to the story, it's a nice fit.**

 **Also, chapter 45 is the real deal, so stay tuned!**

 **Much love xx**


	45. Chapter 45

The incessant chatter was almost exhilarating. Richard knew his family was exuberant – even the solemn Darcy could be persuaded to belt out a loud laugh very now and then if the situation demanded it – but rarely did they truly manage to give him a headache simply from happiness. Certainly, it seemed the wedding of his favourite cousin was occasion enough; Darcy was laughing uproariously with Henry over a story that his father was telling, and judging by the glint in the earl's eye Richard was sure it was something he was missing out on, seated as he was across the room.

However, nothing could entice him to move. Diana – _his wife_ – was seated just beside him, listening attentively as his mother gossiped about something or the other; he heard various mentions of fabrics and promptly tuned out their conversation, instead choosing to take a moment to talk to Georgiana. Diana had released his arm when they had entered the parlour after dinner hours ago, but he had stuck close to her side simply because he could. Who would stop him from holding her hand now, in a secluded, family gathering? His mother had raised her eyebrows, but had not commented or even looked disapproving when he had sat next to her, played with her fingers idly as they both talked to different people, tucked a loose curl out of her eyes when she was animatedly explaining something to Emily… he was pushing his luck, he knew he was, but surely today of all days he could be allowed to do so?

"She is so wonderful," Georgiana's soft voice finally knocked him out of his reverie, a change from her squeals just a moment ago. He followed her line of sight and glanced behind him to see Diana rocking a swaddled Margaret gently as Emily began to usher Henry to bed; the little boy had been quite content to sit at his new aunt's feet and draw in one of his sketchbooks, only sometimes tugging at her skirts so Diana could look down and marvel appropriately at his handiwork. He was reluctant to leave, naturally, but Diana kissed his cheek and assured him he would see her the next morning when they could paint his wonderful sketch, which appeased him immediately and he ran off to the maid who was patiently waiting by the door.

"She is," he agreed quietly, watching her hand over Margaret to her mother. He did not miss the look that passed over her face when her arms were empty – he doubted anyone in the room had – but he did not comment on it. Diana glanced at him just then, as if sensing his eyes on her, and gave him a small smile. Was she reassuring him that she was, indeed, fine, as she often said? He did not smile back, but his expression nevertheless seemed to offer her some comfort neither of them had realized she needed, because she discreetly moved closer to him so their backs were almost touching, turning around once more to engage her mother-in-law in conversation.

"I have rarely seen you so content, cousin," Georgiana's voice was full of affection, and a hint of fascination. "Both you and my brother have found such happiness."

"You will find the same, Georgiana, I promise you," Richard was quick to reassure her, as he had always been since that unfortunate incident at Ramsgate, but as always Georgiana smiled sadly, deftly changing the subject.

"Elizabeth said you would wait until the ball to make a formal announcement?"

Richard snickered. "I do enjoy stealing Darcy's thunder, after all."

Georgiana smiled. "I do not think he would object if you wanted to."

"Of course he would not," Richard rolled his eyes. "Loathe as I am to admit it, he's right – if we must make a scene, it is better to make two at a time rather than allow society to focus on one after the other. Your brother's marriage was not popular, but it has been accepted as unchangeable. My marriage will always be seen as incomplete anyway, so I may as well get used to forcefully subjecting myself to a few balls here and there."

Georgiana giggled. "I have never heard you speak of balls and parties so, Richard, you used to enjoy them."

Richard grimaced. "I was a cad, was I not?"

"Never!" protested Georgiana immediately, the sisterly affection she had freely given him causing her to be decisive in her objection. At Richard's raised eyebrows, however, she bit her lip, fighting a smile. " _Well_ …" she trailed off suggestively, causing Richard to groan and herself to dissolve into another fit of giggles.

"What on earth are you saying to cause the girl to laugh so, Richard?" his mother's voice interrupted them as, _a la_ Lady Catherine, she swept into the conversation and demanded to be a part of it as if she had been there from the beginning. The difference was, of course, that Richard worshipped his mother and her intentions were as far from those of that esteemed lady's as possible.

"We were speaking of balls, Aunt, and Richard's excitement for the one next week," said Georgiana, clearing her throat and straightening up, though still looking like she dearly wanted to laugh hysterically when Richard made a face.

"You are looking forward to a ball?" asked Diana in surprise, turning around to face him. She raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

Richard held out his hand for hers and she gave it bemusedly. He kissed the back of it. "Any opportunity to dance with you is something to look forward to, my love."

Diana laughed freely at that, her the musical tones of her voice causing half the people in the room to stop what they were doing to see what was making her laugh so. Richard felt an odd kind of smugness that it was _him_ who had done it, the feeling only intensifying when Diana rested her hand on his arm and leaned across him to talk to Georgiana, her temple just brushing his shirt. He kept very still, pretending to listen to their conversation but in reality hoping she would not move. There had been a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach every time she came close to him, and the easy blushes he had begun to incite in her told him he was not the only one who felt it. However, now, when without any restraint he could _do_ something about such feelings, he froze.

Physical intimacy had never meant to him what it did to other men, especially men like Darcy who had always secretly harboured notions of marrying for love. Richard had only ever loved one woman, and he had been almost certain he had lost her. Naturally – and he was ashamed to admit it – he had sought companionship where he could, the life of a soldier making it almost too easy. Now, however, he found himself hesitant. He had not been untoward with Diana up until now, not really – the unconventional meetings after their engagement, the fact that he had seen the inside of her bedroom more times than he could admit in polite company, his knowledge of the exact scent of her hair when she angled her head to the side and rested it against his chest… they were not _un_ intimate things, to be sure, and yet he had never taken advantage of their pending marriage the way other men would have, whatever their reasons may be. He had known Diana would have rejected any effort he would have made anyway, no matter her indignation at his unwillingness to kiss her, but he could have convinced her, and sometimes he had almost done it, almost tricked both himself and her that it was what they both truly wanted…

But it had not been. He knew very little of Diana's married life, but from the hints his mother dropped quite obviously, he was sure that intimacy meant something very different to Diana than it did to other women who married for love. Her inability to bear children definitely added to it, and since she had been the wife of an earl from a family notorious for running out of heirs… he could not even imagine what she had gone through, and he would be damned if he gave her even a single cause to be unsure of herself now that she was his.

"Did you hear me?" her breathy voice jolted him back to the present, and he blinked at the sensation of her lips so close to his ear. He turned to look at her and saw that she looked amused; did she know what she did to him?

"Pardon me, I did not," he cleared his throat.

Diana raised an eyebrow. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"My thoughts exceed all forms of value."

"And why is that?"

"Because they were of you."

Diana rolled her eyes. "Charming, aren't you?"

"So I've been told."

"Come, _sir_ ," how she managed to make her tone both mocking and humorous with a touch of something remarkably close to _seductive_ , he would never know. "Everyone is retiring for the night."

Richard looked around in surprise and, indeed, everyone was standing, bidding each other good-night, picking up odds and ends from the room as they made their way outside. Wondering how he had missed the abrupt decision to depart, he stood and offered Diana his arm, which she accepted with a wry smile.

"Shall I see you tomorrow, then?" the laughter in her voice made him smile, though he pretended to frown.

"Eager to be rid of me, aren't you?"

"Quite," they lingered at the top of the stairwell as everyone else drifted away towards their own rooms, barely aware of the curious glances being thrown their way as Richard folded his arms across his chest and Diana looked like she dearly wanted to laugh. She bobbed a quick curtsey and made to turn away, but he grabbed her hand and pulled her back. Diana raised an eyebrow. "I _do_ have to go see my husband, you know."

"Do you?" he could not decide if he was relieved or surprised that she seemed so… light, about everything that was to happen. He had expected nerves, blushes, and a good deal of stammering. Instead, she was calm and witty, a mischievous glint in her eye as she looked up at him from under her lashes, causing his palms to sweat conspicuously for reasons he was not sure he wanted to dwell on just yet.

"That is what is expected on the night following one's wedding, yes."

Richard hummed in mock-thoughtfulness. "A great deal is expected, I believe."

"Only from those who know what to look for."

Richard paused for a moment to examine her face. The mask of sheer cheek he could identify immediately, but there was something else there. Her eyes were sparkling with happiness and playfulness, but they were also hooded and dark, mirroring his own; he knew that without having check his reflection. Curious to see if his assumptions were correct, he took a step closer to her; immediately, she took a step back so they were still at arm's length. A slow smile crept onto his face and he continued to take unhurried, purposeful steps in her direction until she was firmly pressed against the wall, one eyebrow raised.

"What do you think you are doing?" she asked, finally. Her voice was steady, but breathy.

Richard's smile widened and he painstakingly trailed the fingers of his right hand along her left arm, beginning at the junction of her wrist and coming up to her shoulder. Diana continued to maintain her mask, but her eyes had darkened from the pretty, sky blue he was used to, transforming into a darker, haunting colour that made his breath catch in his throat.

"Nothing untoward, I assure you," he murmured. "You are a married woman, after all."

The hand at her shoulder slipped behind her back to cushion it against the hard wall, while the other came to rest at her waist. Diana's eyes widened slightly, her mask cracking to reveal her surprise as her eyes flickered down to his hand and back up to his face. "Richard, what –"

He cut her off easily by pulling her from the back, causing her to bump into his chest so they were pressed up against each other. Immediately, the mask vanished; Diana's cheeks turned a becoming shade of pink, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she chewed it nervously. Her eyes, however, remained trained on his. They were as dark as the midnight sky.

"If you would recall, madam," his voice was hoarse when he spoke, though he had done nothing to make it so. Yet. "I made you a promise."

"You promised me many things," she murmured back. He felt one of her hands come to rest against the bicep of the arm that was keeping her pressed up against him. "Which one in particular would you like to discuss?"

"I do not think discussion is necessary anymore," she had stopped biting her lip now, and it was slightly pink from the pressure she had applied to it. Richard knew his eyes were fixed on that particular feature of her face, but he made no move to look away, or even pretend to be ashamed. It was almost primal, the chant that played through his mind every time he looked at her. _Mine, mine, mine, mine…_

"And why is that?" her other hand had travelled up, her fingers combing through the hair at the nape of his neck almost idly.

His answer was not in words, but the glint in Diana's eyes told him she had not expected a verbal response. Later, he would realize that he had bent down first, which had made her stand up slightly straighter so that their faces were level; at that moment, however, details seemed irrelevant. What mattered was that finally, _finally_ , he had seen in Diana's eyes the kind of desire he had always searched for, and his actions had been reflexive. He kissed her, and dear Lord he _meant_ it.

Diana was hesitant at first, caught off-guard by the display of rough passion from the man who had been so controlled and careful with her since the day she had realized he wanted her. Caution was thrown to the winds soon enough, however; Diana sighed against his lips and wound both her arms around his neck, allowing him to press her back against the wall and kiss her with an intensity she had only dreamed of. Richard's hands remained at her waist, somewhere in the back of his mind a voice telling him that wandering hands would not be appreciated should a servant chance upon them, but his lips were everywhere. He pressed hard, unyielding kisses against her mouth that she returned with an ease that made him growl against her skin; his lips brushed against her cheeks, nose, jaw, temples and forehead much more gently, but no less tantalizingly – her arms tightened involuntarily around his neck when he avoided her mouth for any amount of time.

He had no idea how long they stood there, exchanging kisses that ranged from fiery to frustrating, each more full of promise than the one before. Eventually, however, he rested his forehead against hers and released a ragged breath. There was only so much she could ask of his self-control, he told himself firmly, his eyes still closed. If they kept this up, they would never make it to the bedroom. Steeling himself, he opened his eyes and saw that Diana was looking at him strangely, her eyes glazed over as if she were deep in thought. He could not read her expression, but her eyes were back to the ocean blue he was used to, and he smiled.

His expression caused her eyes to focus upon him again. Diana unwound her arms from around his neck, resting one hand against his arm and using the other to caress his cheek. "You really are worth the wait," she murmured.

"I don't like breaking promises," he replied easily, kissing her temple, his previous decision already forgotten.

"When did you make a promise to kiss me senseless the day I married you?" asked Diana, a smile in her voice.

Richard shrugged. "I did say I would only kiss you when you wanted me just as much as I wanted you."

Diana hummed in reply. "I did not realize..." she trailed off, but Richard nudged her cheek with his nose, silently urging her to continue, and she let out a quiet breath. "I did not realize I would want you _quite_ this much," she admitted, her voice a barely-there whisper.

"My love, I assure you that is nothing compared to how I feel," he pressed another kiss to the corner of her mouth, feeling her lips twitch up into a smile at his words. "I love you."

"And I love you," she curled her fingers around his jaw and pulled him down, their lips barely touching. Just when he thought she was going to initiate their second kiss, she turned her face away. "Unfortunately, I really should go. My husband is waiting."

Richard laughed, marvelling at her ability to switch moods instantly and still remain just as desirable as she had been when she had been making those quiet noises of pleasure against his mouth. "You really should," he agreed, taking a step back and watching her arms fall to her sides. The rosy tinge to her skin made him smirk. "I hear he is a most impatient man."

"Oh, I think he understands the value of patience," she winked and turned around, making her way towards her rooms, where he would join her later by unspoken agreement. "He's not the only one worth the wait!" she called back. Richard laughed louder at that.

* * *

 **Hello, all! Back with a quick update since I'm travelling this weekend and won't be able to post any time soon. This chapter was initially supposed to be at least 1k words longer and include the wedding night scene (as much as I'm going to reveal anyway), but somehow this got carried away (you know how I get when I'm writing these two!). I really wanted to do a chapter primarily from Richard's POV though, and their first kiss was too important to be shoved to the side unceremoniously. Hopefully it lived up to the hype, I for one REALLY enjoyed typing this one, and that hasn't happened for quite a while! Do let me know what you think, I'm still working on review replies so apologies if I haven't responded to you yet, but you all know I love you!**


	46. Chapter 46

**Warning: if you are _not_ interested in reading a highly suggestive chapter, you can skip this one entirely. I think its relevant to the story, because the sexual tension has been _killing_ me, but otherwise you'll understand the next chapter without it just fine. Remember, it isn't rated M so there's nothing like that in it, personally I just think its extra fluffy, but still!**

* * *

Diana ran a brush through her hair slowly, working out all the tangles and fighting to keep her head from spinning. Sarah had helped her change, tidied her room a little and hovered needlessly for over a quarter of an hour before Diana had dismissed her with a firm look and a quick kiss on the cheek. Her maid had left, wringing her hands but smiling nonetheless.

As anxious as Diana had been to be left in peace, however, she was regretting the lack of company now. It had been over an hour since she had returned, and she was _still_ alone. Teasing was all well and good, even enjoyable at times, but Richard's absence was beginning to irk her, and she could not help but wonder if perhaps she had gone too far. Her mother had always said that women should not play games with men, since they would always lose.

"That right there is the problem," she muttered out loud. "Do you really want to take Mina's advice on your wedding night, Diana?" she asked her reflection, glaring at herself in annoyance.

"I could not have said it better myself," Richard's voice caused her to jump and the brush fell from her hands as she whirled around to face him, still seated at her dressing-table. He was leaning against the door-frame casually and completely at ease, as if he had been there for hours. He was also smirking.

Diana sniffed. "Did you get lost on your way?"

"I did not realize you were waiting so impatiently," he still sounded amused: evidently, it was _her_ turn to be teased now. Richard closed the door behind himself and walked into the door, picking up Diana's brush from where it had fallen and holding it just out of her reach when she held her hand out for it. "May I?" he gestured to her loose hair.

"You want to brush my hair?"

"I'm quite taken with your hair, if you hadn't noticed."

"I hadn't," playing coy, she turned back to the mirror and pulled her jewellery box closer to her, removing a few odds and ends to put them back in neatly. She arched an eyebrow at Richard's reflection when he did not move, merely stared at her. "Well, get on with it."

Richard rolled his eyes, but the fingers that gently caressed her hair were gentle, almost worshipful in their movements. To her surprise, he put the brush back onto the table and swept her hair across one shoulder, leaving the nape of her neck exposed. Diana's hands stilled amidst her trinkets, her mind going deliciously blank when she felt his lips touch her skin. She exhaled slowly and arched her neck to the side, biting her lip when he continued to press kisses up past her jaw and behind her ear. He stopped there, his hands reaching for hers and pulling her up to stand. His arms wrapped around her waist securely, which she realized in her current daze was a good thing since she was sure her legs would refuse to work if she tried to stand on her own.

Her back pressed up against his chest, she felt his warm breath in her ear, causing a shiver to run down her spine. "Come to bed," he murmured. His hands ghosted over her hips, inching further below before stilling and slowly coming back to grasp her waist. His fingers dug into her skin through the flimsy material of her nightgown deliciously.

Diana was tempted to allow herself to be led towards the bed, but she stilled her movements. They did have all night, after all…

She turned around in his arms, arching a brow up at his look of confusion. She saw Richard's eyes darken as she subtly pressed herself closer to him, and she smirked inwardly. _Good._ The less controlled he was, the less he was thinking about what was going to happen and how to go about it, the better it would be for them both. His habit of overthinking was annoying at worst and touching at best, but Diana had no plans to allow it to interfere that night. "Did you think you'd get what you wanted so easily after just one kiss?" she asked, fluttering her eyelashes innocently. Her voice was breathy; whether that was a deliberate move or not, she was not sure herself.

She saw something pass over his face, but it was gone too quickly for her to decipher it. "Clearly, I did," he replied.

"And you were late."

"I apologize," and he sounded sincere. Then his eyes twinkled. "Then again, I'm not the only one who wants this."

Diana was about to retort before he cut her off with a kiss that made her toes curl and her stomach erupt with butterflies – just like in those ridiculous French novels Rose often forced her to read to lighten her spirits. Blindly, she threw her arms around his neck and crushed their mouths together, knowing that her lips would possibly be bruised tomorrow and completely uncaring. His hands were wandering to places she had not realized he was interested in exploring, and she was so distracted by his – admittedly enjoyable – ministrations that she had no idea he had been slowly pushing her backwards until she felt the back of her knees connect with the side of her bed. She tore her mouth away from his long enough to give him a look of reluctant admiration, which merely caused him to wink roguishly and push her back gently until she was lying down, trying to catch her breath.

"I hope you realize I was trying to distract you from thinking too much," pointed out Diana once her breathing had calmed.

Richard lay down beside her, his hands fiddling with a lock of her hair as he watched her quietly. "I knew what you were doing," he said simply.

Diana rolled her eyes. "I didn't sense a complaint."

"I had none at the time. I will complain now, however," he inched closer to her, his nose brushing against her cheek. "You should not be concerned with what I am thinking, or whether or not I am thinking at all at such a moment."

"And why is that?" she turned to face him, their foreheads touching now and their lips inches apart. Her gaze flickered down to his mouth quickly, but his stayed fixed on her eyes – he was definitely being serious.

"Because, _wife,_ " one of his hands wrapped around hers securely while the other subtly reached back towards the buttons of her nightgown. "The _only_ thing on your mind should be what I can do for you in such a situation."

Diana raised her eyebrows, but once again before she could speak he had cut her off with a slower, much more gentle kiss than any she had received so far. It was tender and soft, with just a hint of the urgency he, _they_ , truly felt hidden in its undertones. Despite the leisurely nature of the kiss, they were both out of breath when he pulled back. Also, Diana was sure the sudden breeze she felt against her back had not been there before Richard had fiddled with the fastenings of her nightdress.

"Point taken," Diana whispered, her own fingers making quick work of the front of his shirt. Richard chuckled. She resisted the urge to hit him, knowing they had a lifetime to argue now. Instead, she pressed a kiss against his neck. His sudden intake of breath told her it was the right gesture. She smirked. "Anything else, _husband_?"

"Just one thing," she felt his fingers run through her hair, and she realized she had forgotten to braid it for the night.

"What is it?"

"Never tie your hair when we're alone again."

* * *

 **Hello, friends! Apologies for the delay, I've started my second term at uni and its going GREAT - the pressure, the work, the lack of social life and the incredible professors is exactly what I imagined my life would be like when I left home. I know I'm late with this, so if any of you are still here drop me a review and tell me you're still interested! Its nearly been one year since I first posted this story, so chances are you will get a special anniversary chapter / one-shot on the day, though if I finish it by then you'll definitely get details for the sequel!**

 **Enough rambling. Many thanks to the ever-loyal readers, and the few reviewers who tolerate my spazzy updates:**

 **EmlynMara: Glad you enjoyed it, I felt like the wedding was very them! Hopefully you'll enjoy this one too. And yes, reality awaits.**

 **Jansfamily4: I KNOW YOU'VE WAITED FOR THIS FOR A LONG TIME.**

 **SeerPurple: Thank you for your kind words, I hope you stick with the story and continue to enjoy all future chapters!**

 **Deanna27: I won't be showing more than this even in the future, but that's part of the excitement isn't it? Hopefully this chapter lives up to the hype.**

 **Motherof8: Glad you enjoyed the wedding!**

 **Its a short chapter, folks, I know. Let me know if you want more scenes just the two of them, or if you prefer more with the rest of the family, their interactions in public, etc. The Darcy's Christmas Ball is coming up, we still have the John/Sara debacle to handle, Rose is getting married too and she will _not_ be pleased to have missed being in the wedding party, Diana will be hearing from her mother soon and of course, Richard's departure is looming... Have I missed anything?**

 **Hopefully my updates will be less sporadic now, but reality is never kind enough to stick to a schedule. I'll try my best though. See you next time, much love xxx**


	47. Chapter 47

Elizabeth Darcy smiled and nodded politely as her aunt-in-law chatted at her about decorations for the ball, Georgiana's coming out and Richard's celebration banquet all at once with a skill she assumed only a countess could be hoped to possess. Fortunately, she required no such ability, a fact she had never been grateful for until she had met the Fitzwilliam family. Even as she chanced to look around while Lady Fitzwilliam turned to interrogate Mrs. Annsley and Georgiana about her lessons, she was relieved to see the positive effects of her hosting capabilities.

Little Henry was seated on the floor, studiously drawing in a small sketch-book Diana had brought for him from London. It was already half-filled with the shapeless illustrations that could only come from a child's mind, but his current picture gave Elizabeth the impression of a group of people seated under a tree, and she could not help but feel curious as to what he was making. Then again, it could also be a peacock; it would be impossible to tell at this stage.

Across the room, Henry's parents were engaged in conversation with the earl, who seemed to be explaining something utterly exasperating for the viscount, but it evidently had Emily completely enthralled. Elizabeth had no doubt that, momentarily, Henry would excuse himself and find something else to pass the time; more often than not, it would be to tease either her husband or his brother.

Speaking of which… Elizabeth's eyes roamed across the room, automatically landing on her husband, who was leaning against the mantle-piece and listening to Richard talk about something or the other she was sure he had no interest in, but his affection for his cousin, and indeed his cousin's spirited nature, would not allow him to excuse himself. It made her smile to see him so relaxed and, almost as if sensing her gaze on him, William looked away from his cousin directly at her, meeting her smile with one of his own, that particular, rare smile that she knew was just for her.

"You would think the magic of being a newlywed couple would have worn off for you two by now," teased a voice. Elizabeth jumped as Diana sat down beside her, her hair done up in an intricate twist that made the younger woman wonder how much time she allowed her maid to spend on her hair. Her clothes were simple as always, but the twinkle in her eye was new, as was the added brightness of her smile.

"Marriage suits us both, it seems," smiled Elizabeth at her friend.

Diana laughed. "Oh, we'll see how well it suits me after the ball, Mrs. Darcy," despite the importance of the event and the gravity of the situation when it came to her social standing, Mrs. Diana Fitzwilliam seemed to find the impending ball infinitely amusing. " _You,_ on the other hand, you've taken to it like a duck to water, haven't you?"

"I suppose," Elizabeth shrugged, but her smile grew wider.

Diana laughed again. "You are a clever thing. Look around you," she gestured to the room at large. "You've got the most important people in his life in one room, and they adore you. He is a lucky man."

"We both are, my dear," Richard interjected into their conversation so smoothly that Elizabeth was sure he had been listening all along, waiting for the perfect moment to jump in. He smiled at her and took a seat next to his wife, sneaking the cup of coffee from her hands and taking a sip from it as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do. Elizabeth's eyebrows shot up at the unusual gesture, but Diana did not seem surprised by it at all. She huffed, took her cup back and put it on the table at her side, away from her husband's hands. He grinned at her annoyed expression, causing her to swot at his arm. "Domestic violence," tutted Richard, grabbing Diana's hand and playfully twisting it behind her back. "I won't have it, my love."

"Your habit of stealing my food is inappropriate and childish, Richard," she scolded, half-heartedly struggling against his hold even as he laughed at her. "Darcy does no such thing, it would do you good to be more gentlemanly like him."

"We have been compared in such a way more than once, Diana, and I regret to say it has no effect on him," informed Darcy. Richard nodded in agreement, not seeming offended in the least.

"I quite enjoy his spirited nature," defended Elizabeth. Richard gave her a bright smile, while Diana rolled her eyes and Darcy huffed.

"Darcy, tell your cousin to get his hands off me before I ensure he is unable to return to active service for the foreseeable future," said Diana flatly. Darcy and Elizabeth both chuckled at her words, and Richard merely grinned before tugging her closer, winking at her affronted expression.

"You're going to have to say it yourself," he teased. Elizabeth laughed again. Oh, it was improper, to be sure, but it was _funny_. The way the two acted as if they had not a care in the world, as if they were still teenagers just falling in love; it was both heartening and slightly heart-wrenching when one thought of their current circumstances.

"Richard Fitzwilliam, if you do not let me go right now –"

"Richard, what's this I hear about your decision for the first dance at the ball?" Lady Fitzwilliam's voice cut into Diana's threat, and despite the twinkle in his eye Elizabeth was amused to find that he seemed faintly relieved his wife's words had been cut off. Diana slipped her hand out of his grip easily enough while he was distracted, and he grimaced at her before obediently going towards his mother to answer her query.

Darcy took his empty spot, a smile still hovering at the corner of his lips. "You've trained him well."

"All men are insufferable," sniffed Diana. "You're all like puppies, so eager to please and yet so unwilling to learn."

Darcy chuckled at her words, and the two engaged in idle conversation as Elizabeth looked on, content to be quiet and observe for now. Her husband rarely opened up to women, and she was glad that he could be friendly with Diana. The fact that they were both relatively serious with decidedly lively spouses had given them cause to bond, and it was not the first time they had both teamed up against Richard or Elizabeth's teasing.

Nevertheless, it would be silly to think Richard did not bask in Diana's presence, whether her attention was directed at him or not. Elizabeth had always thought him to be incredibly spirited, but ever since his engagement to Diana, it had become more pronounced; he would laugh more, his jokes bringing out the mischievous side of his usually-serious brother and unnaturally-sombre cousin. Even the usually aloof earl would crack a smile at his younger son's antics, and Emily and the countess seemed to find them delightful. Elizabeth herself had always admired Richard, seeing in him the love for a social life she knew she had within her. However, the day she had seen him and Diana together she had realized that she had not seen the real him, not really. If people thought Diana was happier and lighter with Richard around, they had clearly not seen _her_ influence on _him._

"You are very deep in thought, my love," Darcy's low voice drew Elizabeth out of her musings, and she looked up in surprise. Diana had departed sometime during her silence; she was now crouching on the floor with Henry, examining his drawing and listening to his lisping attentively. Darcy had taken her vacant spot, allowing him to sit much closer to Elizabeth so they could have a private conversation, something they had been able to in a crowded room since the Fitzwilliams had arrived.

"Am I?" Elizabeth accepted the hand that reached for hers and smiled up at her husband. She admired, not for the first time, his strong jaw, her eyes drifting down to the upward tilt of his mouth that was slowly growing permanent …

"And now you are staring," Darcy sounded amused. His free hand reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Are you admiring me, Mrs. Darcy?"

Unwilling to admit she had been caught, Elizabeth's eyes fluttered away. "Perhaps I am," she acquiesced. Then she grinned. "I may be the one with fine eyes, Mr. Darcy, but you have your good points as well," her lips turned up at his quiet chuckle. It was too soon to hope for public displays of the full-blown laugh he sometimes let out when they were alone and she was being particularly cheeky, but it was good enough for now. Soon, she promised herself, he would break out of his shell.

"I hope you do not think the only aspect of you that I admire is your eyes, Elizabeth," said Darcy, still smiling. "Have I not been an attentive husband with regards to your many other fine qualities?"

Oh, he was teasing her now. It was always fun when he responded in kind, rather than with a laugh and a kiss – though Elizabeth had no complaints with regards to such a reaction either. Nevertheless, she played along. "Well, there _has_ been a distinct lack of pretty words when I wake up in the mornings."

Darcy raised his eyebrows. "That is because you prefer that I do _other_ things with my mouth, Lizzie. And none of those things involve speaking."

Elizabeth blushed, cursing herself for teaching him exactly how best to tease her. Appeased that he had won their match of wits, Darcy kissed her hand before smiling smugly and leaning back in his seat, reaching for Elizabeth's cup of tea and helping himself to it casually.

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows at his uncharacteristic gesture. "Diana?" she called, her eyes not leaving her husband's.

"Hmm?" Diana looked up from whatever she was drawing in Henry's book, but did not move.

"You were right," she said flatly.

Elizabeth heard the amusement in her friend's voice. "What about this time, dear?"

"Men are _all_ insufferable."

Diana laughed.

 **!**

"You want to do _what_?"

Richard winced. "That was _not_ the reaction I was expecting."

"Well, you should have told me before you went and made the thing official!" huffed Diana, glaring at him through the reflection in her mirror. She felt Sarah's hands speed up, the body language screaming that she wanted to finish her duties so she could leave the scene of clear hostility. Taking a deep breath and forcing herself to stay calm – for the sake of her poor maid if not her husband – she fixed Richard with a hard stare as she spoke. "What are the odds I will be able to convince your mother I will not do this?"

"Excellent, considering _she_ does not want to do it either," Richard rolled his eyes. "I fail to see the problem. It is a _dance_."

"It is the _waltz_ ," insisted Diana, forcing her head to stay still with Sarah pointedly tugged at one of her curls. Richard ignored her, fixing the cuffs of his sleeves pointedly. She groaned, knowing he would not be moved. "Sarah, tell him how awful this is going to be."

Richard folded his arms across his chest, every inch of him saying he would not back down. "There is nothing improper about waltzing with your _husband_ at a private ball. Sarah, tell your mistress she is being ridiculous,""

Sarah squeaked at the level of attention being put on her, and Diana counted to thirty mentally as she saw her wrestle with herself, all the while methodically putting pins into her hair. When she realized she was not getting out of answering, Sarah sighed shakily. "W-well, you're m-married, mum," she stammered out, her hands faltering slightly when Diana jerked her head to the side to glower. She shrunk back. "I-it wouldn't be bad if you danced with your h-husband if that's what _he_ –"

"Oh Lord, you're taking his side!" Diana's mouth fell open in astonishment as Richard laughed and clapped his hands together, giving Sarah a beaming smile that she tried to return. It ended up looking like she was in pain, however. Nerves taking over, she muttered that she was done with Diana's hair, bobbed a quick curtsey, and practically ran from the room.

"Oh, I do like that girl," chuckled Richard, crossing the room and coming to stand behind Diana as she remained seated at her vanity. His smile softened when he caught her eye in the reflection opposite him. "You look beautiful."

Diana rolled her eyes, but did not deny it. She _did_ look beautiful. Sarah had started doing up her hair in her regular intricate styles, dotting it with pearls here and there rather than the glass beads that Diana secretly hated but were more stylish. She was wearing an older gown, but it had been freshly trimmed to look new; the rosy pink set off her dark hair and pale skin nicely, even though it was far too girly for Diana's tastes. However, she knew Richard liked it. He had hummed in appreciation when he had seen it in the selection Sarah had brought out of the trunk for Diana to choose, and she had not had the heart to say she thought it was too much for a family dinner, so she had worn it. Still, no amount of love would get him out of this mess.

"The ball is in two days and I have not danced the waltz in years," said Diana, looking away from his face and rummaging through her jewellery box for the earrings he had given her, along with a necklace that Sarah had found that matched them adequately. "What if I've forgotten how to?" she challenged, tilting her head to the side and slipping the earrings through the opening in her lobes.

"I am quite a good teacher, and Elizabeth needs to practice. Georgiana can easily play us a tune tonight after dinner," even as he spoke and Diana struggled with her other earring, his fingers ghosted over the exposed skin of her neck, just brushing against her pulse point. "Or we could excuse ourselves from the evening entirely."

Diana raised an eyebrow and turned her head back, catching his hand between her cheek and shoulder and gazing up at him unblinkingly. His eyes were dark with a longing that had quickly become familiar, and though it made her insides squirm, she kept her face disinterested. "If I agree, will I be able to avoid dancing?"

Richard snorted. "No."

Diana narrowed her eyes. "Then I suppose we're going to dinner, aren't we?"

Richard groaned. "Might I ask why you are being so impossible?"

"You didn't ask me if I wanted to waltz with you!"

"I wasn't aware that you _didn't_ want to!" he argued back. Even as Diana scowled at him, she held up the necklace, and Richard continued to look annoyed while his fingers worked the clasp and adjusted it so the pendant rested in the hollow at the base of her throat.

"It's not proper," stressed Diana, finally standing up from her vanity and turning to face him. She stood on her toes, her sharp eyes identifying a knot in his cravat that would come loose if not fixed soon. She felt his hands grasp her elbows, steadying her as she undid the cloth and proceeded to re-tie it expertly. His eyebrows shot up.

"Where did you learn to do that?" he could not keep the slight irritation out of his voice, and he did not try to. He had made peace with his wife's previous marriage, but that did _not_ mean he was keen to be reminded of it more often than necessary.

Diana look at him oddly, his words clearly confusing her. "My father taught me," she said slowly. "Why? Do you prefer it a different way?"

 _Of course._ She had been close to her father, infinitely more so than she was to her mother. It made sense that he would have taught her; she had probably tied his at one point or the other as well. He could not say that a father teaching his daughter that was strange - Richard knew how to braid hair because his mother had enjoyed teaching him something she had said his wife would thank her for one day.

"No, it's perfect," he assured her quickly, the guilt for his snappy tone already setting in. He sighed and let go of her arms, allowing her to return to her normal height as she smoothed the lapels of his coat before patting his chest, signalling she was done. "I'm sorry, I should have asked you if you were comfortable with it."

"Yes, you should have, but you did not," nodded Diana, her fingers now fiddling with the buttons of his coat. She was avoiding his eye. He used two fingers to tilt her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. She sighed. "But I overreacted. You know how worried I am about the ball, Richard."

"Because of what people might say to you?"

"Not might, darling, _will_ ," Diana's shoulders slumped as she leaned her forehead against his chest, her eyes closed. "They will whisper point and stare, and some of them will say things to our faces as well. _I_ can tolerate it when it is directed at me, but not when it is about you or your family, I just –"

"Hush," he silenced her immediately. "They are your family too now. Nobody will allow a single word to be said against you."

"Lady Ellen will," Diana looked up at him, a small, bitter smile on her face. "And you can't change that."

Richard shook his head. "I will speak to my aunt."

"There's no point, my love," her smile became less bitter as she stood on her toes once more, this time to plant a sweet kiss against his cheek. She pulled out of his embrace and made her way towards the door, holding out her hand. "Come, we both knew I would lose this argument. I will waltz with you, of course. It might end up being a good idea, in fact."

"Will it?" asked Richard, crossing the room to take her hand as they exited and made their way towards the dining-room. He wanted to pursue the topic, to assure her of his _and_ his family's loyalty in the face of any harsh words that may be spoken to or about her, but he let the subject drop for now. Getting her to agree to the dance had been a feat itself, and he was content to bask in his victory, however small it may be.

Diana nodded. "In my experience, women tend to back off from men once they see how clearly infatuated they are with someone else."

Richard snorted. "What kind of women have you been observing?"

Diana laughed. "Point taken," her eyes twinkled mischievously. "What I meant to say was, they back off when they see how infatuated men are with _me_."

Richard frowned, tugging at her hand and pulling her to a stop. Diana raised her eyebrows questioningly, but he could not tell if her previous statement has been in jest or not. "And how many times has that worked for you?"

"Plenty," his eyes hardened. "I just wasn't interested in making sure it worked until now."

The relief he felt at her easy admission was immense. Nevertheless, Richard frowned as she giggled at his expression. "You are a minx."

"Just keeping you on your toes," she nudged her shoulder with his playfully. "Come now, or we'll be late."

"Oh, I plan to make _sure_ we are late." And he intended to make sure all thoughts of other men were out of her mind by the time the evening was over.

Needless to say, they just barely made it to the dining-room shortly before the first course.

* * *

 **Back again! I will have another update by this weekend (somehow, every time I have an assignment due I end up writing at least 3 chapters in one go, which is great for you guys but not so much for my grades!). Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this one. A little bit of fluff, some Elizabeth and Darcy that everyone was so clearly craving, and a few marital troubles and instances of bliss that come with the deal.**

 **Thank you for the lovely reviews:**

 **HarnGin: Glad you enjoyed it!**

 **Motherof8: Hope this one pleases you then!**

 **Deanna27: You are too kind, thank you for being such a faithful reviewer!**

 **Jasnfamily4: You're so sweet, I'm so glad you're enjoying the story and you approve of the last chapter! Hopefully, you'll like this one too xx**

 **Cyndego: Welcome to the story, I hope you continue to enjoy whatever I present! Let me know how you're liking it so far xx**

 **If you're still around and you've been a reader for a while, review and tell me how the story is going, I'm anxious for feedback! All the drama will come together in the next few chapters, so I thought I would give a long one in the aftermath of all the _previous_ drama so we've all got our heads straight. Next chapter, Diana gets a letter! We all know from who ;) Also, some waltzing and conversation snippets that will become relevant as time progresses. Stay tuned, until next time, much love! xx**


	48. Chapter 48

"You're doing it wrong!"

"No, _you're_ doing it wrong!"

"Ouch! That was my foot!"

"I can't tell, your nails are digging into my shoulder!"

"Because your hands are wandering!"

"Oh, for the love of –"

Emily sighed and gestured to Georgiana, who obediently stopped the tune she had been instructed to play. On the bench next to her, Elizabeth snorted and turned her head back to exchange a look of amusement with her cousin-in-law.

"You two are being impossible," said Emily wearily, folding her arms across her chest and fixing Richard and Diana with a halfway stern look. It mostly came out as a grimace. "The ball is tomorrow, and you both agreed to do this."

" _I_ agreed to nothing," pointed out Diana, untangling herself from her husband's embrace and turned to look at her sister-in-law with annoyance. Emily rolled her eyes, though a smile tugged at her mouth when she saw Richard press his hand to the small of Diana's back gently, coaxing her closer to himself so she was partially leaning against his chest. Immediately, her posture relaxed.

"You are doing this whether you like it or not," Emily told her. "I suggest you do it well. The less people talk about us at the ball, the better."

"Why aren't you practising?" asked Diana sulkily, but she stepped back into Richard's arms willingly enough as Georgiana began to play the music they had chosen earlier in the week.

"Because unlike you I have been dancing for the past year," Emily reminded. "And Elizabeth is quite fond of dancing, she already knows how to waltz."

"And you who did you waltz with before you were married, Mrs. Darcy?" asked Diana teasingly as they completed a set of the steps successfully.

"My sisters," replied Elizabeth. Her eyes danced with amusement. "But Mr. Darcy was kind enough to practice with me before your arrival. _Multiple_ times."

The women laughed at that, while Richard rolled his eyes. "I would hate to think what you ladies talk about when none of us men are around."

"Sisters keep no secrets," teased Diana.

Emily saw her brother-in-law's eyes twinkle at his wife's words. Instead of his response, however, the music room rang out with Diana's loud laughter as Richard spun her around theatrically, grinning at her expression of outraged delight. She tried to stand still midway through, but failed when he merely picked her up off the floor and continued to twirl her about the room, barely letting her feet touch the ground. Georgiana gave up on her playing and turned to face the couple, giggling uncontrollably at their actions. Elizabeth was smiling as well, her hand resting on Georgiana's shoulder as the younger girl continued to laugh.

Emily managed to crack a smile, her heart lifting at the happiness on both their faces, but she was so _tired_. It was Elizabeth's first ball at Pemberley, and her mother-in-law wanted it to be a success. As much as Emily adored Diana and Richard, she dearly wished they would take it as seriously as they needed to. It surprised her that they were not: Richard's behaviour was always barely tolerable, but on a regular day Diana could be trusted to be sensible. However, ever since her marriage something had changed. She had not abandoned all forms of etiquette entirely, not quite. Nevertheless, it was clear she was making up for lost time by letting go just a bit more than usual, and Emily knew she could not blame her, but she had hoped to have her friend's help in the planning of the ball. As it was, she had a feeling she would have to do it alone.

Still, as Richard finally put Diana down and she saw her new sister half-heartedly slap his chest even as he discreetly kissed her temple, she could not help but smile. At least it was worth it.

 **!**

It was interesting to begin one's morning by being treated to a husband willing to kiss every inch of exposed skin until one was as wide awake as he, decided Diana as she sipped her tea daintily in the noisy breakfast room. Interesting, to say the least. It certainly made the noise of Pemberley a day before the Christmas ball tolerable. There were worse ways to start the day, though dancing before breakfast was certainly top of the list at the moment. Emily had dragged her out of bed early to practice, and her feet were already aching at the thought of _more_ practice later in the day.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Richard's quiet whisper in her ear nearly made her spill tea on herself.

She gave him a reproving look as she put the cup down hurriedly. "Don't startle me so."

"Forgive me, I was not aware that your attention to detail was confined to the bedroom," he winked at her expression of shock, his hand finding hers under the table and giving it a squeeze. "Are you quite all right?"

"I've been worse, darling, I assure you," she squeezed his hand back. "Did you have to ride out this morning, though?" she turned to pout at him. "It's hardly fair that _you_ were fully-dressed when I woke up."

"An easy remedy for that is for us both to sleep clothed, but you were having none of that last night." Diana blushed at his teasing, causing him to chuckle quietly. "Would you be willing to join me for an afternoon ride, though?"

"And risk Emily's wrath?"

"We both know I will carry you through this waltz," Richard rolled his eyes. Diana still looked uncertain, and he held her hand up to his lips. "Please?" his tone was cajoling, and Diana sighed, giving in. She nodded and he gave her a brilliant smile, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and murmuring that he would come collect her before luncheon. Diana smiled at him as he walked away, but her smile vanished when Lady Fitzwilliam slid into his vacant seat.

"My lady?" she raised her eyebrows.

Despite the sombre look on her face, Lady Fitzwilliam narrowed her eyes. "What did I say about calling me that?"

"I apologize, mamma," amended Diana. It still sounded strange; she had always addressed her own mother as "mother", never using the informal title as many others did, but Lady Fitzwilliam liked it, and always seemed personally affronted when Diana slipped into old habits and addressed her by her title instead of their new relation.

"That's better," the countess patted her head and hesitated for a moment before putting a letter down on the table between them. Diana froze, recognizing the handwriting on it immediately. "It came while you were in the music room," continued Lady Fitzwilliam, watching Diana's face closely. "Now, you know I love Mina dearly, but she can be stubborn. I did not know what it contained, so I thought it best you decide how you would like to tell Richard what's in it."

"Have you read it?" asked Diana quietly, picking up the letter clearly addressed to her in her mother's hand. She held it gingerly, almost afraid of what it would say, as silly as it was.

Lady Fitzwilliam shook her head. "No, dear, I merely took it from the tray before anyone could see."

"So no one knows about it?" Diana looked up at her, waiting for confirmation. At her nod, she bit her lip. "Would you stay with me while I open it?"

Lady Fitzwilliam's eyes widened for a second before she nodded. Diana stood from the table gracefully, her face perfectly blank as she gestured for the countess to precede her out of the breakfast-room. Everyone else was fortunately too occupied to notice their departure, and they reached the safety of Diana's rooms undisturbed. Once inside, Diana waved her hand idly towards the armchairs by the fire, her eyes glued to the letter. Lady Fitzwilliam sat down quietly, her eyes holding an unending amount of sympathy for her daughter-in-law as she stared at the letter for a few more moments before ripping off the proverbial bandage and finally opening it.

Only a single piece of paper fell out, and both their eyebrows shot up at the shortness of the note. Diana looked uneasy as she began to read, and in the few seconds it took her to reach the end the look did not vanish. When she was done, she sank into the armchair across from Lady Fitzwilliam and let out a shaky breath, which was quickly followed by a laugh.

"What is it?" asked Lady Fitzwilliam. Something about Diana's expression made her anxious.

"You may read it, if you wish," she held out the paper willingly.

 _Diana_

 _You need not tell me of your marriage, I was informed by the lawyers weeks ago that Mr. Darcy had requested papers to be drawn up since he had acquired a special license. I will not lie and say I was expecting an invitation, since I truly was not, but I suppose it is for the best; I would not be able to leave Devon for Derbyshire so soon in any case. I need not wish you joy, I am sure you will both be very happy. I will not be able to come to the ball you so cordially invited me to in your last letter at such short notice. However, upon Richard's departure I will expect to see you here – the estate requires some attention, and since your husband cannot do it, it is only fitting you take some time out to look over things._

 _Your cousins send love and congratulations. Give the family my regards._

 _Yours, etc._

Lady Fitzwilliam folded the letter back into its crease and handed it back, her face carefully blank. Diana was still chuckling to herself, rather darkly, and she was at a loss as to how she should handle the young woman. She knew Diana was bitter that her relationship with her mother had never been good, and she herself was a little offended at Mina's utter disinterest in her daughter's marriage and future, but she was not surprised. Richard had never been Mina's pick for Diana, likely she was still annoyed her daughter had not found someone richer who could keep her mother comfortable in her old age – she had complained heartily when Diana had packed her off to Devon, but the idea of being in control of a modest estate had appeased her somewhat. Now, however, she had made her displeasure clear.

"You need not worry," said Diana, her voice sounding slightly amused as the countess jerked out of her reverie and met her daughter-in-law's eyes. She was surprised to find that they were dry and, indeed, even a little lively. "I do not intend to burst into tears because my mother was not kind to me in her letter. She is rarely kind to me in person."

"She means well," was all Lady Fitzwilliam could say in defence of her friend. She was not sure she believed it either now.

Diana shrugged. "What am I to do with her meaning well? It has never ended well for me, her meddling," she tossed the letter carelessly onto the table between them and leaned back in her chair. "It is better for all of us that she stays in Devon, my mother has her faults but running the estate is certainly not one of them. Every time she goes there it seems our income doubles."

"Do you intend to settle there, later?" asked Lady Fitzwilliam, her curiosity getting the better of her. She did want to help Diana in any way she could, but the cold mask that was on her face currently told her that her daughter-in-law was not in the mood to be comforted or pitied.

At her question, Diana looked thoughtful. "When Richard returns, we may have to stay in London and the estate is a meagre source of income, to be sure, but it is enough to keep us going for however long he chooses to serve. I have enough to satisfy my own little whims, and he has already provided me with a great deal more than I would need in his absence. There will be no children to worry about, after all, just the two of us. I would happily go where he needs to be."

"But would you be happy in London?" insisted the countess.

Diana looked away from her at that, and Lady Fitzwilliam had her answer. "I do not enjoy London," she admitted quietly. "But Richard enjoys his work, and had we not met again after so many years I have no doubt he would want to serve for longer than a few months. He feels he needs to be useful and do something, and I know he does not say it but he would not get the same satisfaction being in a house with me all alone."

"That isn't true, my dear."

Diana shook her head. "I know he loves me," she assured her quickly. "Of course, I never doubt that. But I also know he dearly wants to do something meaningful with his life. He is a younger son, mamma, he does not have many options. We have talked about it before, and I understand his reasons. If I could have children," her voice broke at the last word, and Lady Fitzwilliam almost got up from her chair and went to her, but she controlled the urge. Diana's eyes were dry as they rested on the table between them absently, despite the slight tremble in her hands. "If we had children, perhaps he would feel that he was being productive in some way, he would have someone to look after. He knows he does not need to look after me, after all" she smiled wryly at her own words, and so did the countess. "But that is not possible for us, and I would not deny him this. As long as he comes back to me, I will not complain if we have to live in London because he will be with me. I've been without him for so long," she looked up, an earnest look on her face. "I know how it feels to lose him, and I can't do it again."

"And I pray that you never have to," said Lady Fitzwilliam quietly. She could think of nothing else to say. However, when she felt Diana come to sit on the floor by her feet, resting her head against her knee wearily, she knew she had said enough.

* * *

 **Hello again! As I said, when deadlines loom closer my updating schedule goes haywire and I can't help but shove update after update into your inboxes. For all those who enjoyed the ED interaction last chapter, i'm glad it was up to standard! Next chapter will be exclusively Richard and Diana, since i know we're all missing their one on one time. i did want to get Mina's letter out of the way though, so I hope to get to the Christmas ball by the time we hit 50 chapters (WOW!?).**

 **As always, many thanks to my numerous reviewers:**

 **HarnGin: We won't see Mina again until the sequel, I hope that cures some of your apprehension, but there is still drama to come! Glad you enjoyed it**

 **Lynette: My lips are sealed, we'll just have to wait and see!**

 **Jasnfamily4: I understand your feelings perfectly! if they had gotten married in a less urgent setting i have no doubt either Darcy or the earl would have packed them off to spend a few weeks alone, but unfortunately in the current circumstances it just doesn't make sense. With the ball coming up, Richard's departure and the oodles of damage control that needs to be done before he can leave, sending them away would help them out surely but not everyone else! Still, I will try to include some alone time with both of them from now on, they really do deserve it!**

 **Guest: Diana and Richard coming right up!**

 **Deanna27: Mina's charming self is back! Did you miss her, because I know I didn't! We'll see Lady Ellen again in the chapter with the ball, and hopefully things will get better then (or they could get worse...)**

 **Gaskellian: I know I know, fillers are my weakness! But the waltz part was important, I promise :p hopefully this one was less filler-y!**

 **catelyntully11: So glad to hear from you again! Im happy you're enjoying this, yes I know THEY'RE FINALLY MARRIED it feels so surreal since I've been working towards it for almost a year but AAAHHHH so exciting!**

 **Guest: Welcome to the family! I'm so flattered you read all of them in one go ahahahha, hopefully I can keep you with us until the end!**

 **Motherof8: Its what I'm looking forward to most too, glad you enjoyed the ED moments!**

 **That's all for now, folks. I shall see you again by the end of the week, let me know how you enjoyed this one! Much love xx**


	49. Chapter 49

_Mother_

 _I am pleased to know you are enjoying running the estate. Please give my cousins my thanks and love. I have enclosed a letter for Rupert's wife._

 _As far as my return to Devon goes, I would see what my husband's family desire after his departure. With Georgiana Darcy's coming-out this season, the new Mrs. Darcy's settling into Pemberley and the viscount's wedding anniversary, I have no doubt that my mother-in-law would want me to stay close. However, I am sure I can spare a week to come down and examine whatever it is you wish for me to see. Richard has expressed a desire to look at the accounts before he leaves, however, so I will be writing to the lawyers regarding access to those soon._

 _I hope you are well. I wish you a happy Christmas in advance._

 _Yours, etc._

Richard frowned at the letter left unattended at his wife's desk. Normally, he would not have looked at it, but he had caught sight of its addressee and it had made him curious: Diana had already written to her mother about their marriage, and he was not aware of any response to the message. A quick glance at her papers revealed another letter, folded in its crease that had not been there this morning. He picked it up and scanned it quickly, his mouth setting into a grim line as he read his mother-in-law's words. They were unsurprising, and yet they made him angry. How this woman could treat a creature as good and as kind as his wife in such an abysmal manner was –

"Are you snooping?" Diana sounded amused as she leaned against the door of the dressing-room, her riding-habit on and a small smile on her lips. Richard turned to look at her, shrugging unashamedly. He did not trust himself to speak.

Diana crossed the room and plucked the letter from his fingers, placing it back on the desk and wrapping her arms around his neck, tugging him down so they were slightly at eye-level. "If you let my mother spoil our afternoon I will refuse to sleep in the same bed as you for the foreseeable future," she informed him.

Despite himself, Richard smiled and pulled her closer, revelling in the easy access he had to her and determined to enjoy it as much as he could. "And would you be able to resist me for that long, wife?"

"I could try," she pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, reaching out a hand and smoothing out the faint wrinkle between his brows. "Don't frown."

"I am upset," Richard leaned in for another kiss.

Diana pulled back much too soon for his liking, bumping her nose against his playfully. "Why? I am not."

Richard sighed. "Diana, she is your mother."

"She has always been this way," Diana shrugged. "If it does not bother me anymore, why does it upset you?"

"Because I know it _does_ bother you," insisted Richard. "Will you pretend even with me?"

Diana bit her lip. "I will admit, I did not expect her to be quite so indifferent," she said reluctantly. "Even a long letter full of her tirades I would have accepted, but it doesn't _matter_ ," she shook her head firmly. "I married you because I wanted to, Richard. I did not think mother would be happy about it, I am not that naive."

"What I don't understand is –"

"Shall I tell you why she is being this way?" she interrupted. Richard frowned, but Diana merely raised an eyebrow at his look. "Mother wanted me to marry a rich earl with enough children from his first wife to overrun his estate so that I could sit at home and crochet awful patterns onto handkerchiefs and Lord knows what other things for his grandchildren. She is annoyed that her pension will lessen and that she can no longer refer to her daughter as Lady something-or-the-other, that is all. Did you _want_ me to end up with someone like Sir Ralph?" Richard's frown turned into a glare at her words, and Diana smirked in satisfaction. "I did not think so."

"I will attempt to reign in my displeasure," said Richard finally. "But your mother is wrong."

"Darling, mother is rarely _right_ ," Diana rolled her eyes. "Now, can we go?"

He made no move to let her go. "We could stay here…" he trailed off suggestively.

Diana laughed. "Insatiable, aren't you?"

"Irresistible, aren't you?"

"I never said I wasn't."

"You like to act as if you are."

"Do I?" a sly smile crept onto her face as she stepped back into her husband's arms. Richard groaned. Diana giggled. "I like to think I'm _quite_ irresistible."

"You are," Richard tugged on a curl that was strategically hanging out of her bun, just caressing her cheek. "I hate it when you tie your hair."

"I can hardly parade around Pemberley with my hair down," reminded Diana. Richard ignored her and wrapped one arm around her waist, effectively anchoring her to himself as he began to studiously remove the pins holding her hair up.

"Richard!" Diana attempted to sound stern, but there was a laugh in her voice. His lips twitched. "We are _not_ leaving this room if you take my hair down."

"Good," he smirked down at her outraged expression. "I don't _want_ to leave this room."

 **!**

"I was actually looking forward to this afternoon, you know."

Richard rolled his eyes. "And this was an unpleasant way to spend our time?"

Diana giggled, rolling onto her side so she could rest her chin on his bare chest. "I can't think of a better way right now," she admitted.

"I thought so," he drew an arm around her, lazily running his fingers through her hair. If Richard could spend hours lying in bed with Diana wordlessly, he would do it happily. They had barely been married a few days and yet he was not afraid to admit that every time Diana so much as tried to doze next to him, he would stare at her face diligently. Whether he was trying to commit her face to memory, or because he enjoyed looking at her since she truly was beautiful, he doubted he was aware of it himself. But he could pinpoint every freckle on her face, the faint scar on her temple from when she had fallen the day he had proposed to her, the cut in her eyebrow from a childhood injury, how her lower lip was fuller than her upper lip -

"You're staring again," and of course, every time she caught him staring she would tease him mercilessly.

"I enjoy staring at my wife."

"Only when you think she isn't looking," snorted Diana. She pressed a kiss to his cheek and made to get up, her hand reaching out for the thin robe that lay at the foot of the bed. Richard grabbed her arm, holding her down, and she raised her eyebrows. "What is it?"

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked. He tugged at her hand. "Stay here."

Diana extracted her hand from his, slipping her robe on and sitting on the edge of the bed to plait her hair back. "We should be downstairs," she mused, glancing out the window to note the setting sun. Richard groaned. She laughed. "Why is it such a chore for you to be around your family?"

"Because _I_ married you, not them," he muttered.

"You should like a sulky child," said Diana teasingly. She glanced back at him over her shoulder, only to find that he had thrown an arm across his eyes, pointedly ignoring her. She laughed again, tossing her hair over her shoulder and willingly lay back down, curling up against Richard's side. She felt the fingers of his free hand curl around the neckline of her robe, deliberately tugging it down. She rolled her eyes. "Subtle, aren't you?"

"Not at all. I make my desires quite clear."

"Your desires are a little ill-timed," she nudged his arm off his face gently and smiled at his sour expression. "I love you."

Richard's face softened immediately. "As I love you."

"We do not have to go downstairs if you do not want to," Diana rested her chin on his arm so she could see his face. Richard's fingers twirled a lock of her hair absently as he raised his eyebrows at her easy acceptance. She looked sheepish. "I was actually hoping to discuss something with you."

"What is it?"

"It is about Sarah, and John. I fear we have been too caught up in ourselves to remember that we owe them our help."

"I have already spoken to John, my love," Richard smiled at her look of surprise. "I believe he is to tell Sarah tonight, after hours. He made his suit as a man desperate for some happiness before going off to face, what he believed at least, sure death. I managed to convince him that hastiness is not an admirable quality in a man wanting to start a family. He soon saw things my way."

"And?" she demanded when he paused.

" _And_ I wrote to Crooke immediately to inform him that John would be coming with me. I need a valet, and this way I can bring him back with me."

Diana blinked. "You can do that?"

"Crooke can," Richard shrugged. "He owes me quite a few favours. When news reached him of our engagement I am told he was most anxious to ensure I would indeed be travelling as I had promised, and not selling my commission."

"I see," Diana fought to keep her voice even. "And afterwards?"

"Afterwards?"

"When you come back," her gaze flickered down, breaking eye-contact. "Will you sell it then?"

Richard was silent for a moment, and then she felt him tug at her hair, causing her to glance back up at him reluctantly. She was burning with curiosity, but she honestly had no idea what her reaction would be to his answer. It had never crossed her mind that Richard _leaving_ the army altogether was even an option. She had always assumed he would want to keep his ties to the military. But if the war got worse, and by some miracle he came back to her completely unharmed and was forced to return –

"You are thinking of things you should not be thinking of," Richard voice cut into her waking nightmare, and she blinked harshly to bring herself back to reality. His eyes were concerned, but he was still smiling. "When I come back, I will do whatever you wish for us to do. We can stay in London and I can work, or we can retire to Devon so I can see this estate that I apparently desired to go over the accounts of. Speaking of which," he raised his eyebrows pointedly. "I'm afraid I do not recall asking to see any such thing."

Diana blushed, putting all thoughts of the army out of her mind forcefully so she could enjoy what little time she had with Richard before her insanity kicked in again. "Mother would be more willing to send the accounts herself if she thought you wanted to see them," admitted Diana. "It was only a small fib. I know you dislike accounts, but I am quite good at them. I have to write to Cousin Rupert every few months to request him to send me copies of the ledgers because mother has forbidden the attorneys from responding to my demands."

"She has?" Richard frowned. "Diana, it's _your_ estate, Rupert is merely a glorified steward. She cannot do that."

"Of course she can. She uses her pin-money for things much more useful than ribbons and new dresses," Diana rolled her eyes. "It does not matter anyway. You are going to write to the attorneys and demand they shift all dealings of _my_ estate to _your_ attorneys before your departure."

"I am?" Richard could not help but be amused by his wife's matter-of-fact way of speaking of things that he doubted other women would be interested in.

"Yes. That way, if you are not here to send letters to them on my behalf, your father or Henry can do it for me and I am more likely to get things done," nodded Diana. "Mother need not know about it at all, and then there will be no fear of her interference. It's quite simple, actually."

"It's quite _brilliant_ is what it is," Richard chuckled. " _You_ , my dear, are brilliant."

Diana shrugged. "Brilliant or not, I would prefer you to send the letter before your departure. I am sure your father can handle all the particulars for me once the process begins."

"I shall inform him after dinner of your devious plan," promised Richard. Diana's lips twitched. "Anything else you would like me to do for you, wife?" pointedly, his hands travelled back up her arm to the top of her robe.

This time, she did not push him away. Instead, Diana's eyes glinted mischievously. "Oh, I can think of a few."

* * *

 **As promised, here is the long-awaited exclusive RD chapter that everyone was begging for! It was a little tough to write tbh because I wanted them to actually speak about important things as well and make sure it wasn't a filler-y chapter, but I also wanted it to be super fluffy BECAUSE THEY JUST GOT MARRIED (I'm still not over it, I genuinely think I myself am their biggest fan). Sarah and John was an issue that needed to be dealt with ASAP, so tell me how that went - most of you had guessed this was the way it would go, so good on you!**

 **Anyway, many thanks to my wonderfully loyal reviewers:**

 **Deanna27: You sound like such a good mother, as it should be! My mother is absolutely incredible as well, Mina is more of an embodiment of all the evil charactertistics of socially ambitious mothers who are unfortinately very much among us today, but I'm glad not many people can relate to her - I'd be worried otherwise! Glad you enjoyed the waltz scene, it was one of my favourite ones to write by far and I hope I can throw in some more teasing soon in the next few chapters!**

 **Jasnfamily4: That's exactly why I love Richard too, I feel like he can afford to be a little crazy and let loose whereas Darcy has practically been trained to _not_ do so. It's why they're both so close, and also why Diana and Richard are such a good match, because he's playful enough to bring her out of her shell but she's serious enough to keep his head straight - I really do love them, so glad you liked the chapter! And don't worry about Mina, nobody can really relate to her at all!**

 **HarnGin: Mum's the word when it comes to the topic of kids and infertility, but I see where you're going with this and I would be lying if I said I hadn't considered it. HMMMM WE'LL JUST HAVE TO WAIT AND SEE ;) thank you for your kind words, I'm so happy you're enjoying the story!**

 **Guest: That's a good idea! I'm thinking a section of the Christmas ball chapter entirely from Emily's POV with Henry making a few appearances, I realize now I've barely written the two of them together and that's crazy because in my head they're _almost_ as loveable as RD and DE! **

**Motherof8: Might or might not, can't give anything away but stay tuned!**

 **Gaskellian: Diana and her MIL are truly one of a kind, I didn't want her to be at odds with every older woman in her life and I just feel like Richard's mother is so so perfect (but she has her faults... more on that later!). Anyway, as for the tiny surprise, it could come in any shape, size, or form so I'm not making any promises!**

 **SeerPurple: Thank you for that, I'm so glad you enjoyed it and I hope you like this one too! xx**

 **And that's all for this week, folks. If your luck holds I may update again by next weekend (yes, I do have assignments due). Coming up next: the Christmas ball told from all sorts of different POVs, and loads of our old faves will be back - Lady Ellen, Rose, Sir Ralph, AND TWO POTENTIALLY CONFLICT-CREATING CREATURES. So, bonus: if you guess who they are, I will feature a debutante with your name in the next chapter, and while he/she may not be integral to the story I will give them a nice little scene, so send me some names! Let's see how well you can guess.**

 **Also, Christmas presents delivery in the next chapter. Since it's chapter 50, I wanted to do something special, but I can't think of anything. I might post a one-shot about the first time RD met, but that's all up in the air atm... What would you prefer? Let me know!**

 **Until next time, my lovelies. Much love xxx**


	50. Chapter 50

Diana smiled forcefully as she accepted yet another kiss on her cheek and a hushed whisper that she should be sure to "talk later" with the woman who had accosted her. Keeping in mind that it would be rude and quite unethical to step on Lady Harriet's feet next time she looked at her husband in such an inappropriate way, Diana allowed her smile to falter only briefly and sighed, snapping open her fan to hide her expression of exhaustion.

"Penny for your thoughts," Richard slid into the vacant seat beside her, taking the fan from Diana's hands and snapping it shut, promptly tucking it into the front pocket of his coat.

Diana raised her eyebrows. "Why did you take my fan?"

"Because I want people to see us sitting in a corner talking and laughing, the perfect picture of wedded bliss," answered Richard casually, fixing the cuffs of his shirt. He gave her a smug smile when he noticed that she seemed taken-aback by his answer. "Did you think you were the only schemer in this marriage, my love?"

Diana recovered quickly from her surprise. "No, darling, I merely assumed I was the only one Napoleon would run away from."

" _That_ you still are," Richard laughed, slightly louder than necessary but Diana smiled back anyway. The musicians struck up just then, the first indication that the ball was set to begin. Ordinarily, Elizabeth and Darcy would have opened it alone, but since it was now common-knowledge that Richard and Diana were married, they would be expected to accompany them, and Diana had insisted that Emily and Henry stand up as well when she had learned that they would all have to waltz.

As they made their way towards the side of the floor that Emily was subtly indicating them towards with her eyes, Diana took a deep breath. "Is it too late to fake a sprained ankle?"

Richard looked amused and bowed as she curtsied, throwing her a wink when they both straightened up. "I dare you."

"You think I wouldn't?"

"Go ahead. I have no objection to carrying you through this dance _literally_."

Diana resisted the urge to glare, keeping her face pleasant even as her tone became threatening. "Richard, if you attempt any sort of theatrics tonight –"

"Yes, yes, I know. More fearsome than Napoleon," he was still amused as they closed the distance between themselves. Diana rested her hand on his shoulder with the lightest of touches, but Richard hand on her waist was warm and his grip was strong. She cleared her throat pointedly, but he ignored her and the music began.

A few minutes of dancing later – and a twirl that was perhaps unnecessary, but nevertheless caused several appreciative laughs and even a few claps – Diana felt comfortable enough to speak. "It's going rather well so far, isn't it?"

"The ball or our dancing?" asked Richard, smiling at the intense concentration on her face – she was still uncomfortable performing such an intimate dance in public, while he found it hilarious.

"Both, if I'm honest," Diana smiled a little. "But mostly the ball, I suppose. Elizabeth did a wonderful job with the decorations."

"The entire event does look set to be a success," agreed Richard. The grand ball-room of Pemberley, which he could remember admiring as a child through gaps in doorways and curtains when his aunt and uncle had entertained people in their younger days, looked just as splendid as would be expected. Elizabeth had allowed Mrs. Reynolds to use her extensive knowledge of the Darcy collection of linen and plate, and she had selected the flowers from the hot-houses herself with Georgiana's help. The servants worked as a single unit, always within easy reach of any guest in need refreshment. There were an adequate number of seats, mostly taken over by the matrons as the younger people would be expected to dance most of the night. The doors to the dining-room were flanked by two footmen, who would open them after the supper-set. The people in attendance were of the highest rank of nobility and social status, but many aristocrats who shared Lady Catherine's temperament had been excluded, thus ensuring that there would be no cause for a scene. All in all, Richard was impressed. For a country girl not used to running an estate even half the size of Pemberley, Elizabeth had done a wonderful job.

"Emily did have much to do with it," mused Diana. "I fear she expected me to be much more helpful than I was."

Richard snorted. "Well, you _did_ just get married."

Diana laughed. "I suppose that is going to be my reason for most things this season," she said amusedly. "Your mother asked me if I had thought about a new wardrobe for town, and when I asked her why on earth I needed one she informed me it was because I had just gotten married."

"Of course. You can hardly expect to spend an entire season in town without a new dress for every ball," said Richard, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Diana did not smile at his mocking tone. Instead, she sighed. "I do not like the idea of going to balls and dinners without you. I shall be bored out of my mind."

Richard squeezed her hand. "You managed just fine without me for a long time, remember that."

"That was before you ruined me with your company."

"I suppose I should apologize for that, then."

"Please, don't."

Richard chuckled, winking at Diana again before quickly twirling her one last time as the song drew to an end. There was a smattering of applause, and the string quartet in the corner gave the couples just enough time to exchange bows before they began another song. Elizabeth and Emily switched partners, but Diana and Richard left the dance-floor, making their way towards the earl and countess.

"You have been eyeing us since the music first began, Mamma," said Richard, bowing to his mother and holding out his hand for hers. "Allow me the pleasure of a dance while you tell me your troubles."

Lady Alexandra looked a mix of amused and resigned, too used to her son's roguish ways to try and change him, but hoping he would change nonetheless. She accepted his hand, leaving Diana to take her father-in-law's arm as they joined the line for the next dance.

"I do hope everything is alright," said Diana, trying to keep the creeping worry out of her voice. From the corner of her eye, she saw Richard's face harden as he exchanged words with his mother, though he looked as though he was trying to school his expression.

"People talk," said the earl simply. "You're a smart girl, you know when to shut your ears. Richard is a soldier – he would rather charge first and think about etiquette later. Your mamma is just worried he may cause trouble now that you will have to deal with later, in his absence."

"We both know that people will always find something to comment on," sighed Diana. "I do hope he is sensible enough to avoid making a scene. I have told him before I can take care of myself."

Lord Fitzwilliam chuckled at her words. "I don't doubt that for a second," he winked at her, looking ridiculously like his son when he did so, and bowed as the music began.

They spent the rest of the dance exchanging few words, but Diana did not complain. She was glad she had managed to avoid the swarm of men who had requested the pleasure of her hand for the first few sets. After her father-in-law, Henry claimed the next dance, and Darcy the one after. Young William Boyle, the eldest son of Lady Alexandra's younger brother and the only dance partner Georgiana was allowed other than her cousins and brother to stand up with, had managed to stammer out a request for a dance as Richard chuckled next to him. Diana had taken pity on the poor boy and accepted graciously, going so far as to introduce him to a number of debutantes that she knew would be flattered by his attentions, shy though he was. Indeed, an hour later she was pleased to see him still dancing, a much more confident look on his face.

"You are far too good at match-making," commented Henry, leading her towards the chairs at the end of his second dance with her. "I sometimes wonder at how much you had to do with _my_ marriage. Did you bewitch me to propose to my wife as well?" Diana merely shrugged at his teasing, still smiling. It slipped off her face soon enough, however, when she saw who was approaching. Next to her, Henry groaned, all traces of humour gone fro his countenance. "Oh, dear Lord, have mercy on –"

"Oh, Lady Herbert, Sir Henry, _what_ a pleasure," Miss Bingley curtsied perfectly, her painted lips curving upwards into a smirk of delight. Mentally, Diana braced herself even as she smiled thinly at the woman and returned her greeting. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jane Bingley being led onto the dance-floor by Darcy as Elizabeth stood opposite Richard. Mr. Bingley himself was standing with Emily. Ah, so she was alone.

"Miss Bingley, you look lovely. But I must correct you, it is Mrs. Fitzwilliam now," Diana smiled sweetly. Next to her, Henry muttered out a greeting and excused himself hurriedly, lest he be talked into dancing with the woman opposite him. Diana almost stepped on his foot, but reluctantly allowed him to abandon her. Though she was in no mood to deal with Caroline Bingley, she was in even less of a mood to deal with Henry's whining.

"Oh, do forgive me," the younger woman tittered. "It must have slipped my mind. Of course, you were married just a few days ago, were you not? _Such_ a shock, I must say, we had heard no such word of it until Eliza wrote to Jane of it."

"Mrs. Darcy, you mean?" Diana raised an eyebrow, noting the touch of red on Miss Bingley's cheeks as she realized her slip. "And I am surprised," she talked over her as the other woman attempted to defend herself, unwilling to listen to more of her prattle. "that you knew nothing of it until it happened. Mr. Darcy was kind enough to arrange a special license for us, and I am told he attended to all the necessary details whilst in the company of your brother. I have yet to offer Mr. Bingley my thanks for all his help," she smiled again, though this time it was at the look of shock on Miss Bingley's face. "Perhaps you would be so kind as to tell him how grateful I am? I would do it myself, but…" she gestured vaguely towards the dance-floor, as if she had a partner waiting for her. She did not, in fact, but Miss Bingley did not need to know that. She nodded, still a little dazed, and Diana curtsied before darting away, allowing herself to be swept up into the crowd.

She had barely taken a few steps before a foreign hand grabbed at hers, and she was suddenly standing next to Rosalind Bertram, who looked as if she wanted to hug her and yet also stab her. Knowing Rose, it was possibly both. At the same time.

"Hello, Rose," Diana air-kissed her cheek hurriedly before jerking her head towards a few empty seats in the corner. She knew she would have some explaining to do – strange as their friendship was, Diana was perfectly aware that keeping her engagement and then her marriage a secret from her friend would not be taken lightly.

Rose followed her wordlessly, sitting down and raising her perfect eyebrows questioningly. Diana sighed. "What would you have had me do? It was sudden."

"Tell me everything," said Rose flatly.

And so she did. Or, at least, everything she wanted Rose to know. Diana told her of the license, leaving out her argument with Richard but including details of the ceremony itself, and the days that followed it. When she was done, Rose was smiling.

"I did say you would not follow me down the aisle," she commented. A sincere look crossed her face then, and she clasped Diana's hands. "I am truly happy for you, Diana. He is a good man, and he looks at you as if you are his whole world."

"I do not know about that, but he is _my_ whole world," said Diana quietly, her eyes drifting across the room until they landed on her husband's laughing face as he danced and talked with Elizabeth. He did not sense her watching him, and she was glad of that. She looked away hurriedly.

Rose sighed, almost wistfully. Diana gave her a questioning look, and she shrugged. "Do you think mine will be like that?"

"What, dear?"

"My marriage," she fiddled with her engagement ring, the blue sapphire contrasting prettily with her cream coloured gown. "Do you think he will look at me like your husband looks at you?"

Diana was quick to assure her that _of course_ Ralph Bolton would love her, heart and soul, indeed he loved her already, but her words sounded false even to her own ears. She did not particularly like Ralph Bolton, but he was not an unkind man, and he truly did seem besotted with Rose. However, Diana had seen marriages go south for the most trivial of reasons that had nothing to do with the woman's fortune and beauty, or the man's temper. Unwilling as she was to lie to her friend, Rose needed the match with Sir Ralph. It would not do to fill her head with ideas of what all could go wrong. Better to focus on what could go right.

They chatted for a little while longer, until the song ended and Sir Ralph came to claim Rose for the next set. He congratulated Diana profusely on her marriage, and became even more enthusiastic when Richard came over to greet the couple. The newlyweds accepted the wishes graciously, but Diana could not help but let out a sigh of relief when Rose and Sir Ralph finally left them alone.

"Not a fan of your former admirer, I see," teased Richard. He sat down next to her and reached for her hand. Diana raised her eyebrow and inched it away from his reach, giving him a pointed look. Richard ignored her and grasped it anyway, pressing a quick kiss to her knuckles before letting go.

Diana could feel her cheeks turn pink. "Was that necessary?" she asked, well-aware that more than a few people were watching them.

Richard shrugged. "I felt like it. I see you met Miss Bingley," he grinned wickedly. "She came up to me and offered her congratulations, as well as a well-timed hint that she was free for the next set."

Diana raised her eyebrows. "And what did you say?"

The twinkle in his eye told her that he was immensely enjoying his earlier actions. "I told her that was most unfortunate and begged her to let me introduce my cousin, William Boyle."

Diana snorted. "Was that fair on young William?"

Utterly unremorseful, Richard merely leaned back in his chair. "Well, he seems quite taken with Georgiana. Best to see how he fares with one such as Miss Bingley before encouraging his attentions."

Diana rolled her eyes, but refrained from commenting: Richard was almost as bad as Darcy when it came to the idea of Georgiana's suitors. She focused on the music, and her well-trained ear told her that there were two more songs to go until the supper-set, after which she could finally sit down and avoid every preying woman who wanted to gossip about her marriage and every man who seemed to think she was still unmarried, and thus fair game.

"Thinking too much will give you wrinkles, my love," said Richard gently. Diana merely sighed, her exhaustion evident on her face. Richard looked at her oddly before taking her fan out of his pocket and handing it to her. She opened it gratefully, fanning herself and allowing the cool air to soothe her somewhat. Richard still seemed slightly confused by her behaviour. "Are you all right?" he asked worriedly.

"I just don't have your energy, darling," she smiled at him, feeling somewhat guilty when she realized the next set was halfway done and he was still sitting with her. "Why aren't you dancing?"

"Why aren't you?"

Diana shrugged. "I haven't been asked."

She had meant it in a teasing way, but Richard's eyes hardened, and she realized that he took it as a slight, as if their marriage and the way it had come about meant that she would get less offers to dance. Though Diana was sure that was part of the reason for her lack of partners, she did not wish it to change.

"Has anyone said anything to you?" Richard asked, somewhat gruffly.

Diana shook her head. "It is hardly something for you to get worked up over, Richard. I _like_ not being asked."

"It is not about being _asked,_ Diana. If they have something to say to you –"

"You cannot duel with half the men in this room for not asking me to dance," interrupted Diana firmly. "I am not a damsel in distress, and I never have been. I do not enjoy the current situation, but it will pass. It always passes. For now, I am content. Could you get me a drink?"

Richard blinked. "What –"

"I asked you for a drink," Diana opened her fan again. "It is warm in here, and I feel rather faint, which is why I am seated rather than standing or dancing. Since you are attending to me, you may as well fetch us both some refreshment."

Despite the displeasure he was clearly feeling, Richard cracked a smile. "You really are something else, aren't you?"

Diana winked slyly, causing her husband's demeanour to lighten. He bowed over her hand before departing, promising to return soon. Diana was not worried – once the supper set was done they would be seated together and she could keep him in check easily after that. For now, they would both have to be more careful.

"Hello, Diana," the voice was familiar, and yet completely unexpected. Diana snapped her fan shut, barely having time to collect her thoughts and rearrange her expression before Lady Ellen Carmichael was in front of her, a small smile on her face.

Diana stood and curtsied, keeping her eyes fixed on her shoes. She had not spoken to Lady Ellen since before her engagement, and certainly not after the older woman had made it clear to Richard that she was unhappy with the idea of their betrothal. Now that they were married, Diana had been expecting a cold reception at best, so the fact that Lady Ellen had approached her without being roped into conversation was strange _._ She smiled, air-kissed Diana's cheek and indicated for them both to sit. Dumbly, she followed the countess' lead. The music reached its crescendo and ensured neither woman could speak, and Diana took advantage of the few seconds to let out a deep breath, fix her expression into one of mild interest with the barest hint of a smile, and turned to face her aunt-in-law.

"I hope you have had a pleasant evening, my lady," she said genially.

Lady Ellen inclined her head slightly. "Very pleasant. Mrs. Darcy is a marvellous hostess."

Diana nodded. "Yes, Mr. Darcy has done well for himself."

"Quite well," agreed Lady Ellen.

They were silent again. Diana was dreading Richard's return. She remembered the black look on his face as his mother had warned him to keep his temper in check. Now, she wondered if her mother-in-law had known that Lady Ellen would approach her, and had tried to warn her son about it.

Lady Ellen broke the silence this time. "I did not get a chance to offer you my congratulations," she said. And then she was quiet.

Diana smiled tightly, noting that she still did not offer any well-wishes. "It was very sudden."

"Richard is a good man," there was a catch in Lady Ellen's voice this time, and Diana resisted the urge to turn to look at her. Her fingers twitched in her lap. Normally, she would have touched the older woman's hand in comfort, but she did not. She could not bring herself to fake her compassion. Not now, anyway. "He is a good, kind man with a big heart that he lets rule his every action, don't you think?" Lady Ellen took out her own fan, turning away from her companion fractionally once she had spoken.

Diana pretended to watch the dancers, but her heart was beating wildly at the turn the conversation had taken. She could rave about Richard's good qualities for hours, but she was uncomfortable discussing him as a topic with his aunt when she knew how she felt about them. "He is the best of men," she chose to say, carefully choosing to keep her tone neutral.

"I never had anything against you," blurted out Lady Ellen. Her words seemed to tumble over each other in her eagerness to get them out, but still Diana did not look at her. She could not afford to. To show tears, to show weakness in such a gathering would be foolish. There were too many people watching, too many people who would love to see something they could gossip about later for months, and Diana refused to give them more than she already had. So, she kept watching the dancers as Lady Ellen's voice filled her ears. "You know I always cared for you, Diana. You are a good girl, you can appreciate the kind of man my nephew is, but you _must_ understand that my fears are for him and him alone. We must value our family above all else, and you have not been blessed with the kind of life that a woman who should be with him needs to have led."

Diana knew the intelligent thing to do would be to end the conversation, bow stiffly to Lady Ellen, find Richard and _leave._ But she was curious, almost morbidly so. She had had a great deal of affection for Lady Ellen, and she knew the older woman had doted on her until just recently. The open favouritism had ended as soon as she had learned of their engagement. However, even before that, Diana was sure Lady Ellen had suspected that Richard was fond of her, yet she had done nothing. And now Diana wanted to know why. So, instead of walking away, she fought to keep her voice even when she replied. "I am afraid I do not follow, my lady."

Lady Ellen clearly missed the steel in her voice. "Your father, Diana, God rest his soul, was a good man but he had his demons and he could not run away from them. Your mother was never the same after he was gone, and your husband was taken from us all so soon. You've never had children, and though I would never blame you for something like that, you must see how unfortunate your position is. It is hardly what anyone would call a normal life, small wonder that people talk about how cold you are in public. I have always defended you, but this…" Lady Ellen sighed. "I can defend you as a woman struggling to make herself respected in a world that does little for us, but _how_ do I help you in this? My nephew deserves stability, and that is the one thing you cannot offer him."

Diana was not sure if Lady Ellen expected a response, or if she had merely decided to enlighten Diana as to her true feelings for some unknown reason. Nevertheless, with every word she spoke, Diana felt as though she was being stabbed in the chest. The sweet voice of the woman who had comforted her when her mother was too sharp, when she had found out she could not have children; that same voice that had coaxed her out of bed and chattered to her about dresses and balls was now akin to a knife that seemed insistent on causing her as much pain as possible. Ordinarily, Diana would have taken it, but suddenly she realized she did not have to. She was always saying she could take care of herself, she had made it clear on a number of occasions to everyone, but Richard's words were ringing in her ears: _"Nobody will allow a single word to be said against you."_

And they wouldn't. Everyone in the family, _her_ family, from the earl to Little Henry, would come to her defence against Lady Ellen, she was more sure of it now than ever before. It offered her some courage.

"I do not remember asking for your help, my lady," said Diana. Her voice was still low, but she was no longer trying to sound polite. Her hands were shaking even as she clenched them into fists in her lap, and she was forced to grind her teeth and purse her lips to avoid snarling in the older woman's face. Three things she had fought hard to forget had been thrown into her face by the woman she had once considered a friend, and all she wanted was to do was let out all her hurt and anger. "I can manage just fine, and I do not need –"

"Aunt Ellen?" Richard's voice cut her off before she could complete her sentence about what exactly it was that she did not need from the likes of Lady Ellen Carmichael. Despite the anger that was clouding her very vision, in the back of her mind, Diana registered that Richard's addition to their discussion could end very badly. He was not known for controlling his temper, and she had no doubt that he would create a scene if he realized how upset she was.

However, those thoughts were not at the forefront of her mind. Distressed though she was, her stiff posture relaxed almost of its own accord when her husband reached for her hand, and she gave it to him eagerly. He helped her stand up, and she ended up leaning against his arm heavily, making him support most of her weight; her head was spinning, her grip was tight, possibly uncomfortable, and her knees were trembling. "This is a surprise," Richard sounded unsure, and slightly suspicious. He placed a hand on top of hers comfortingly, and perhaps that was when he realized Diana's entire frame was shaking. He turned his head, took one look at her pale face and hard eyes, and excused them both from his aunt's company without another word.

Diana allowed herself to be led out of the ballroom and into the courtyard, which had been lit with candles and draped with flowers. Had she been less upset, she would have admired Elizabeth's foresight to decorate even the parts of the house the guests would not see, but she could not. Her temples were throbbing. Richard had stopped pulling her and they were standing in a respectably shaded corner now. Diana leaned back against the stone wall and let go of his arm, using the hand that had previously been clutching her husband to touch her forehead. Her skin was burning.

Slowly, Richard pulled her hand away from her face gently and held it in both of his own. Diana did not respond, suddenly realizing that her throat was dry and that all she really wanted to do was go to her room and sleep with him by her side, away from the prying eyes of people who seemed intent to blame her for things beyond her control. Children, her father's death, her mother's behaviour, her dead husband, even Richard's departure… _everything_ was her fault, because she was all they could see, all that was left.

"Diana," Richard sighed and turned back to look at the door. The faint sounds of music could be heard, the last song before the supper-set. He looked at her in frustration. "What did she say?" Diana began to shake her head, but Richard grasped her face with both of his hands, his expression morphing into one of anger. "You will tell me _now_ what she said that has upset you, or I swear to you I will walk in there and cut off all ties with her publicly."

Diana opened her mouth with every intention to tell him everything, but no sound would come out. Her body refused to cooperate, and she choked on air before giving up on forming words and merely rested her head against his chest, trying to calm her racing pulse. The blood was thundering in her ears, and she could barely hear Richard ask her what was the matter even as he wrapped his arms around her securely and supported her weight, allowing her to sag against him. She knew exactly what was happening – it was another of those ridiculous panic attacks that the doctor had warned her she was prone to when Richard had proposed to her. It made sense that it was happening now: she was upset and horrified, and yet she was frustrated with herself as well, because she was stronger than this. People talking had never bothered her this much, but Lady Ellen embodied everything Diana had worked so very hard to achieve - the respect of her peers, the adoration of those who she had thought deserved her affection, the acceptance of Richard's family even in his absence. Lady Ellen had also been her friend, a kind, motherly figure in place of her current mother-in-law and her real mother, because both women had reminded her too much of the man she had lost before she had even truly had him. Lady Ellen had represented Richard just enough to make Diana smile when she saw her, but not enough to make her miss him more than she already did. And so, to hear her say the things Diana knew people all around her were thinking _..._ the wound was fresh, and the betrayal was too deep to be pushed away, to be dealt with at another time. It _hurt._

Diana could hear Richard murmuring into her ear, his lips brushing against whatever skin he could reach as he tried to coax her out of her strange state. His words did not register in her mind, but the fact that she could hear his voice and feel his warmth was enough to make her rethink her current predicament and focus on staying conscious. After all, did she really need someone, _anyone,_ who was not her husband to be on her side? Did anyone in her life have the right to affect her that much, except him? The answer was quite obvious: they did not. Richard worshipped the very ground she walked on, and his quick but subtle dismissal of his aunt, his willingness to remove her from the spotlight and try to soothe her away from quite possibly one of the grandest events of the year showed that nothing was more important to him than her and the things that _she_ cared about. It did not make Lady Ellen's words hurt any less, of course, but it gave Diana the ability to access the small reserve of energy she had thought herself unable to summon up until that moment.

Forcing herself to calm down and push back the tears that nobody except the man in front of her deserved, she managed to peer up at Richard through bloodshot eyes and smile, a little grimly. "It's fine," she tried to reassure him. Her voice was hoarse, a barely-there whisper, but it was steady. Richard looked as if he was a second away from his own version of a panic attack. Diana pressed a hand against his chest and took a small step back, ensuring she could stay on her own feet without excessive help. She gave him an almost triumphant look when she succeeded.

Richard was far from impressed. "We are retiring early," he said flatly, his voice harbouring no argument.

Diana merely rolled her eyes, feeling more and more like herself as she came to terms with the fact that she _could_ survive the rest of the evening. Just not alone. She would never have to be alone again, not anymore. "We have a dance to complete, a dinner to eat and then a few people to talk to," with every word, her voice lost some of its gruffness. It was a far cry from her usual way of speaking, of course, but it was better than nothing. "I'm not leaving."

"Diana, you clearly just –"

She cut him off, pressing a finger against his lips and giving him a warning look. "I know what just happened," she told him. "And it was a mistake. I will not give any of the people in that room the satisfaction of knowing that they have upset me."

" _Satisfaction?"_ hissed Richard. He almost wrenched her hand away from his face harshly, but Diana was surprised he was not screaming at her by now: the grip he had on her hand was almost painful. " _You just had a panic attack!"_

Diana frowned. "I did not realize you knew how those went. Oh, dear. Did Sarah tell you?"

Richard groaned, running his free hand through his hair in exasperation. "Give me _one_ reason why I should not throw you over my shoulder and lock you in our bedroom for the rest of the night."

Diana's eyes softened at the genuine pain in his voice. She tugged her hand out of his harsh grip and gently smoothed out the lines embedded into his forehead, reaching up on her toes to touch her lips to his. He kissed her back immediately, clutching her against his body and cupping her face reverently in his hands. Despite the fact that she was enjoying his attentions and they served as a much-needed distraction, Diana tried to break the kiss even as Richard pushed her back against the wall she had previously been leaning against, shielding her with his body and continuing to press kisses to her face, venturing down her jaw to the edge of the lace collar of her dress, where he finally paused. His warm, quick breath against her bare skin was oddly soothing.

"We need to go back," murmured Diana once she had caught her own breath. Richard did not move, still holding her captive against himself. Diana sighed and rested her cheek against the top of his head. "Please?"

"You cannot really expect me to let you back in there after I've seen what it does to you," said Richard, voice muffled as he continued to nuzzle the crook of her neck.

"It's not as bad when you're near me," shrugged Diana. Richard finally moved, still standing too close but finally catching her gaze curiously. She smiled sweetly. "I love you."

Richard sighed, leaning his forehead against hers in defeat. "And I love you," he replied. "Which is why I don't want to go back inside."

Diana shook her head. "We _will_ go back inside. Just stay close to me," she intertwined their fingers, squeezing both his hands reassuringly in her own. When he still did not look like he would agree without an argument, Diana bumped their noses affectionately. "Won't you save me from all the vultures, my love? Or were those just pretty words?"

His lips twitched. "You know I'd do anything for you."

"Then do this for me," she urged him to understand without saying the words. Going back into the ballroom would be impossible without him by her side, she knew that.

And he knew it too. Sighing, Richard kissed her lips softly, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "I won't leave you alone now," he said, intending for it to sound like a warning, but it came out like a promise. Diana nodded, and they held hands as they ventured back into the battle-field that was not nearly as deadly as the one he would be departing for alone in mere days, but would be just as difficult to survive.

* * *

 **Right, nobody said it would be easy but damn this was a tough one to get out! It didn't go the way I planned, and I did have plenty of Emily/Henry interaction in here but alas it had to be cut in favour of instances that were more valid to the plot. Not to worry though, I wrote roughly 2k words JUST on them so for all those who want to see more, I'm sure I'll stuff it in somehow.**

 **I would love to thank you, my lovely reviewers, individually, as I always do, but I have something special to say this time:**

 **As of today, I have written 50 chapters and received 370 reviews - I just want to take this moment to thank all of you for taking the time out to read and comment on this story. I started it almost exactly 1 year ago as a stress-relief from uni and life, and it's turned into so much more since then. Please know that I write every chapter to the best of my ability, and the fact that so many of you respond to it and connect with my characters in such wonderful ways is a lovely feeling. I hope you continue to do so.**

 **This chapter is indeed one of the longest I've ever written, and I honestly think it's one of my best - it has just the right amount of angst, description and cleverness and wit that I know many of you have come to associate with Diana's POV. Let me know if you loved it and want to see more like this. As their relationship grows and deepens, we all know that even within marriage there is room for things to completely fall apart or become stronger than ever, and I plan to make sure Diana and Richard grow together - for better or for worse.**

 **Thank you to:**

 **Gaskellian**

 **April**

 **HarnGin**

 **Deanna27**

 **Jansfamily4**

 **catelyntully11**

 **Motherof8**

 **You are all wonderful and I appreciate your support very much, I have no specific comments to add since this chapter seems to have drained me emotionally, but do let me know what you think. Until next time, much love xxx**


	51. Chapter 51

Richard had awoken to strange noises in the past – gunfire and men shouting were the most common ones, but when he was home often it would be his valet not-so-subtly opening curtains to hint that he was late for a meeting with his father, or sometimes his mother would sweep in and begin speaking without even looking to see if he was fully awake or not. Since his marriage, if Diana woke up before him he would hear the rustling of her skirts as she moved around the room, trying to be quiet and failing miserably. Hence, the days he woke up to complete silence were rare, and he relished in them.

And yet, there it was. As sleep faded and an awareness of his surroundings returned to him, Richard realized that it was still relatively dark in the room, which led him to believe the sun had barely risen, if that. Nothing seemed particularly out of the ordinary, and Diana was breathing peacefully next to him, her head tucked under his chin securely. Richard allowed himself to enjoy her warmth for a while, a small smile tugging at his mouth when she sighed in her sleep, one of her hands curling around his arm automatically.

However, reality dealt a swift blow to his thoughts. Memories of the previous night, complete with her bloodshot eyes, almost non-existent appetite and lack of laughter for the duration of the evening made his blood boil. He had eventually learned of what his aunt had said to her, of course, he had insisted that Diana tell him every word. He would have dearly loved to go up to Lady Ellen and confront her, at the very least make her apologize for the hurtful things she had said, but Diana had practically begged him not to. She had reminded him, tearfully, that if he caused a scene that night, it was _she_ who would have to deal with the aftermath when he was gone. Alone.

"I don't want to do these things without you," she had choked out, her eyes wide and glistening with tears. She had been too emotionally frazzled to even pretend to be doing something else, so intent was she on hanging on to his arm and ensuring he did not leave her side. " _Please_ , do this for me, Richard, _please_."

And so, he had done as she had asked. He had kept his distance from Lady Ellen, but not before pulling aside his father in the rare moments Diana had relinquished his arm in favour of his brother's. As shortly as possible, Richard had told Lord Fitzwilliam of what had transpired, and the older man had said nothing. However, he did not need to. His thin lips, darkening eyes and stoic expression had said it all – the next time Richard had glanced at him in passing, he was speaking quite seriously to his mother, who was doing an excellent job of pretending to look completely unaffected, but in reality was close to tears.

Unconsciously, Richard gritted his teeth and clenched his free hand into a fist – the other one was resting on his wife's back, keeping her pressed into his side. His anger would not let up, however, but he was loath to wake her after the night they had both had. Making up his mind that a stroll through the grounds would help alleviate his anger and allow her to sleep until such a time as they needed to be awake, he gently untangled himself from around her and eased her back against the pillows, making sure to tuck the quilt around her securely so the chill would not wake her.

He dressed quickly and silently, only stopping long enough to kiss his wife's forehead before exiting the room quietly. Pemberley was peaceful and enveloped in a sleepiness that Richard almost envied. Hee navigated the halls expertly, intent on leaving via the servants' entrance so as to avoid meeting anyone. However, as he passed by one of the smaller parlours that had been fitted for Elizabeth's personal use, he was surprised to hear music coming from inside. Someone was awake.

Curiosity ignited, Richard pushed the door open and peered inside, raising his eyebrows when he saw Elizabeth seated at the pianoforte, painstakingly playing a tune whilst glaring at the sheet-music stacked up in front of her. When there was a pause in her playing, Richard pointedly cleared his voice, announcing his presence.

"Oh!" Elizabeth jumped slightly and whirled around in her seat, but gave him a smile when she saw who had interrupted her. "Good morning, cousin. You are up early."

"As are you," he replied, hovering in the doorway for only a moment before accepting Elizabeth's invitation to be seated. "An interesting time for practice," he commented, taking a seat opposite the instrument. It was new - Darcy must have had it bought specifically for his wife.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "If only I had the time, or the inclination. I was just copying some music," she gestured to the papers around her, and Richard realized there were many more littering the surface of the pianoforte, as well as some scraps of blank paper and a pencil. "My sister, Mary, is quite proficient, and she has begged me to send her some new pieces with Mrs. Bingley when she returns to Netherfield. I could not find the time to go and shop for them, so Georgiana was kind enough to offer some of her own."

Richard nodded, but did not say any more. His temper had not cooled, and the last thing he wanted was to offend Darcy's wife at such an early hour with a rude comment. However, Elizabeth did not seem to mind his silence. She continued to play, pausing only now and again to make changes in the music she was writing out carefully.

"I don't suppose Darcy is awake?" asked Richard finally. Perhaps he could induce his cousin to accompany him for a ride.

Elizabeth smiled fondly. "He was quite exhausted after all the mingling and socializing of last night," Richard cracked a smile at that, and Elizabeth gave him a knowing look. "You are welcome to wake him if you need him, of course. Unless I can help?"

She sounded genuinely curious, and looked ready to be helpful as well. Richard was about to wave away her request, when he paused. Surely, after everything Diana had done to help Elizabeth, she would be willing to listen, and perhaps even talk to her? He doubted it could hurt. Proud though she was, Diana was the first to admit that handling society after his departure would be difficult for her to do alone. She had even smiled when she told him that having his family on her side meant the world to her. Having the new Mrs. Darcy on her side could certainly do no harm.

"Richard?" Elizabeth sounded slightly concerned now. "Shall I fetch Mr. Darcy?"

Richard shook himself out of his thoughts and patted her arm to assure her he was fine. "I am merely thinking," he said.

"Of?"

Richard hesitated for only a moment before he found himself telling her everything, from Diana's reports of the whispers she had heard to his aunt's treatment of her, and her subsequent panic attack but refusal to leave the ball. His words were jumbled, his voice was loud, and he was gesturing madly with his hands – all in all, he was sure he looked quite the picture.

Elizabeth did not react. She merely folded her hands in her lap and listened intently, her lips pursed. But, when he got to the part where his aunt had told Diana exactly what was wrong with her – namely, _everything_ that was beyond her control – Elizabeth looked confused.

"I understand why Lady Carmichael would bring up Diana's late husband, and her inability to have children," she said, though her tone said she was _far_ from understanding. "Even her mother, I suppose. Though she is not unlike mine I cannot fault mamma on how much she loves her daughters. But what is this about her father? I thought he died many years ago, before her marriage."

Richard blinked, then gave his cousin an incredulous look. "Has Darcy not told you the way Diana's father died?"

Elizabeth shrugged. "I never thought to ask. Everyone just always said it was unfortunate, I assumed it was an accident."

Richard grimaced. "I wouldn't say that."

"What do you mean?" Richard looked hesitant, and Elizabeth seemed to sense it was a sensitive topic. "Forgive me, I did not realize -"

"No, it's fine," Richard waved away her concern. "James Harris was a good man, or so my father says, but he did have his flaws."

"Flaws enough to kill him?" Elizabeth looked sceptical.

"He had a gambling problem," said Richard reluctantly. Elizabeth gasped quietly. "He was the younger son of an earl, but he had a decent inheritance. He bought the estate in Devon just before Diana was born, but everyone says Mina was the one who ran it, while he spent quite a bit of time in London. Diana was very close to him when she was younger, and he doted on her. He spared no expense where she was concerned, not that he needed to. My father says he was the luckiest man he had ever met," Richard smiled grimly. "He was never in debt, until just a year before he died. The money was a great deal, and the pressure to pay back was too much."

Elizabeth looked sympathetic. "The stress must have been awful."

Richard shrugged. "My mother likes to say that it was the stress that killed him, and I daresay she is right, though in my personal opinion the stress of living with Mina would kill any man. He hung himself," he added, when Elizabeth seemed confused. "In his bedroom, whilst Diana was away visiting relatives in Bath. Mina did not say a word, merely summoned her a day before the funeral. They moved to London barely a month later. I met her shortly after she came out of mourning."

Elizabeth had covered her mouth with her hands, looking horrified. Richard leaned back in his chair, only slightly wary of the revelation of his wife's past. Elizabeth was quite possibly the most discreet woman he knew, and he doubted Diana would be against her knowing; she would probably prefer that Elizabeth had found out from Richard rather than from herself. She had only spoken of her father once, that too in passing, but her voice had been full of grief and pain. Richard knew that Mina had expressly forbidden her daughter to mourn her father fully, going along with the rumours that he was a coward and a fool, and no doubt the conflicting opinions had confused Diana greatly.

"I never knew," Elizabeth's quite voice drew him from his thought. "Oh, dear, no wonder Mr. Darcy was so insistent on giving her away at your wedding. It must be so painful for her."

"She does not like to speak of it," replied Richard.

Elizabeth blinked. "Surely she speaks of it to you?" Richard expression gave her the answer, and she frowned. "I don't understand. You have known her for longer than any of us, I should think there is no one she would trust more than you."

Richard felt the need to defend himself. "It is not a question of trust. She has never been ready to speak of him, and I never wanted to push her."

"But you can't think she doesn't _need_ to talk about it?" persisted Elizabeth. Richard still looked unconvinced. Elizabeth leaned forward in her seat, her gaze earnest. "The people we love do not always judge themselves well, Richard. Darcy would have the world believe he is proud and aloof simply because it takes too much effort to show them his true nature. Diana would have people think what they want about her, so long as they leave her alone. They are both at fault, because they are both too _good_ to stay unaffected by the things people say about them, though they'd like us to think they are indifferent. Not being able to publicly grieve for her father must have been terrible, but not being able to speak of him whenever she wants, even now? I cannot imagine how that would feel."

 _Neither can I._ Richard closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, the urge to tear out his hair almost overwhelming. Elizabeth was right; _of course,_ Diana needed to talk about her problems. With a sinking feeling, he realized that they had never discussed the one thing he was sure meant more to her than any other. The subject of their marriage, children, even her mother had come up often enough. But never her father. "I should go to her," abruptly, he stood up, giving Elizabeth a half-smile. His mind was whirring; how could he have been so neglectful?

To her credit, Elizabeth did not even blink at his brusque tone. She merely smiled, a little wanly, and allowed him to squeeze her hand before he swept out of the room.

All thoughts of exercise forgotten, Richard retraced his steps in a daze, but paused when he reached the familiar corridor; their bedroom door was slightly open. Problems momentarily forgotten, he frowned, wondering what was going on, until Sarah suddenly stepped outside with her arms full of wrapped gifts and a pile of clothes no doubt intended for washing. She jumped when she saw Richard, dropping two of the folded dresses in her arms, but managed to bob a quick curtsey and a throw him a sheepish smile.

"Is your mistress awake?" asked Richard, bending down to retrieve the fallen articles of clothing.

"Only just, sir," said Sarah. She shifted the various packages in her arms so Richard could hand her the dresses he had picked up. "She wanted the presents put under the tree for tomorrow morning."

Richard nodded, suddenly registering that it was Christmas Eve. In a brisk tone that told Sarah she need not return to the room for a while, he wished her a good day and stepped past her, closing the door firmly behind him once inside. Diana had not been awake for long, he could tell immediately. Though the bed had been neatly made, the cupboard in the corner was flung open, and the fire was crackling merrily in the hearth, the curtains were still fluttering from Sarah's tugging - she was always muttering to herself that Pemberley's drapes seemed to have a mind of their own - and there was a tray of tea on the table by the fire, the single cup that was poured still steaming. All in all, it looked no different from any other day, except Richard could hear Diana singing from inside her dressing-room.

He blinked. Richard could not remember ever hearing Diana sing without the accompaniment of a pianoforte or a harp. She restricted her performances to dinner parties and music rooms, or at least she had when they had first known each other. He had always loved her voice: Richard was fond of music, he had an ear for exceptional voices and within five minutes of Diana's first, slightly hesitant performance, he had told his mother bluntly that she was incredible.

 _"'Tis the last rose of summer left blooming alone  
All her lovely companions are faded and gone  
No flower of her kindred, no rosebud is nigh  
To reflect back her blushes and give sigh for sigh."_

He had not heard the song she was singing now before. Considering how quietly she was being, he was surprised at the amount of gentle power in her voice. Though, having heard her perform in a crowded room, he knew he should not be he was anxious to see her, he could not bring himself to call out to her, in case she stopped. Silently, he crossed the room; the door of the dressing-room was open, and from his position near the door he could see that Diana was sitting on the floor with her back to him, sorting through her various trunks. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he saw that she was folding clothes, both his and her own. He recalled that she had told Sarah to ignore them as they had left hurriedly, saying she could tidy up the room later, but when they had arrived upstairs by the end of the night, cleaning had been the furthest thing from both their minds. Clearly, it seemed to offer her some respite now, and after the events of the previous night, combined with his new epiphany, Richard was reluctant to upset her. So, he let her carry on with her task and merely leaned against the wall outside the door, closing his eyes. She would stop singing as soon as she saw that he was in the room, he knew that.

 _"I'll not leave thee, thou lone one, to pine on the stem,  
Since the lovely are sleeping, go sleep thou with them.  
Thus kindly I scatter thy leaves o'er the bed  
Where thy mates of the garden lie scentless and dead."_

She stopped then, clearing her throat and letting out a soft sigh. Richard heard her footsteps coming towards the exit, and he reached out his arm and caught her about the waist, pulling her just as she came through the doorway so her back was pressed against his chest.

Diana jumped with fright for only a moment, before realizing it was only him and settling back into his arms. She turned around whilst still in his embrace and smiled, then saw his own smile and threw him a reproachful look.

"You've been listening," she said accusingly.

Richard shrugged, feeling no remorse. "You sing beautifully."

Diana sniffed, still looking displeased, but her cheeks turned pink. "I am out of practice," she cleared her throat again.

He kissed her temple. "Liar."

"Why would I -"

"You sing every morning, don't you?"

Diana bit her lip. "Not every morning," she tried, and Richard raised his eyebrows. Diana smiled sheepishly. "Most mornings," she amended.

"And you can't do it when I'm in the room?"

"We've barely started living together."

"What about this past week?"

"You sleep so soundly!"

"That is because you tire me out," he teased. Diana blushed a deeper red, causing Richard to laugh.

She pinched his arm reprovingly. "Don't tease."

"I enjoy it," he kissed her cheek. "Tell me. Why have I never heard you before?"

"You've only ever heard me when I sound like an angel," suddenly, she was shy, avoiding his eyes and playing with the buttons of his coat. "I just –"

"Darling, though I agree that you are absolutely perfect, I _do_ know that perfection requires practice," said Richard. "And I would have thought you wouldn't mind practicing in front of _me_."

"Oh, be quiet," Diana huffed and untangled herself from his arms, making a face at him as she returned to the dressing-room. This time, though she left the door between them open, she did not sing, but Richard merely returned to watching her, knowing she would come back to him eventually.

She was still in her nightgown, with a robe and shawl over it, and her hair was deliciously tousled down her back in loose waves, just the way he liked it. It was neater than usual, and his smile faltered when he remembered _that_ was possibly due to the fact that they had spent half the night with Diana curled up against his chest, not crying but severely upset as he had stroked her hair wordlessly, until they had both fallen asleep.

"Where did you go this morning?" her voice jolted him out of his memories. She looked at him curiously as she put a set of clothes onto the bed, probably her outfit for the day. "You had left by the time I had woken up."

"I wanted to take an early morning walk," replied Richard. Inwardly, he wondered if he ought to tell her about his chat with Elizabeth.

"Alone?" Diana frowned. "You could have woken me."

"I thought Darcy would be up. You needed to rest," he caught her hand again as she walked past, and this time did not let go. Diana smiled, allowing herself to be pulled into his arms.

She kissed his cheek lovingly. "I'm fine," she murmured reassuringly. "You do not need to worry."

Richard sighed. "Do you really think I will not, after last night?"

"Last night will not be repeated, you made sure of that."

"I can't make sure of it every time."

"That doesn't matter."

"It matters to me."

Richard expected a harsh retort, but instead Diana merely leaned her head against his chest. "I know," she said quietly. "And I am very glad it does."

Richard frowned. He was not used to his wife allowing him to take care of her, she had said often enough that she could look after herself. Before he could question it, however, a sharp knock sounded at their door, unlike Sarah's usual, timid taps. They exchanged a worried look before Richard stepped away from Diana and made for the door, opening it to face John.

The footman looked pale. "Express from London for you, Major General," he said stiffly, holding out a sealed envelope. The handwriting on it was instantly recognizable.

"What is it?" Diana's voice was still quiet from behind him.

Richard did not answer her. "I will send for you in a while," he said to John. The footman bowed, his posture still tense. Richard took the letter and closed the door. He offered Diana a small smile that looked more like a grimace than anything else, and tore open the letter quickly.

 _Major General Richard Fitzwilliam_

 _Sending you good wishes for Christmas and the new year. Have been advised by General C. to dispatch a reminder to you about your journey to -. We expect you in London on the 2nd of January. Travel arrangements and papers for John Hunt will be available at London base._

It was signed and stamped with the seal of a corporal that Richard knew from his time working from London. Next to him, he felt Diana move and realized she had read it over his shoulder. He looked up and saw that she was walking towards the desk as if in a trance. As she slumped down into the chair, she was shaking slightly.

"Darling, what is it?" the letter forgotten, Richard knelt down by his wife's trembling form and reached for her hands, trying to catch a glimpse of her face as she looked down into her lap, her hair hiding her expression from him.

Diana shook her head. "Thank God," was all she murmured, before throwing her arms around him.

Richard sighed and rubbed her back soothingly, praying she would not now have the panic attack they had so narrowly avoided the night before. The letter had caused her to worry since she had not known its contents, and he hoped that now that she knew nothing was going wrong she would stay calm. He had been concerned as well, of course, the fact that an express had been sent would normally be a sign of changing plans, but he realized now that the request to have John with him and the measures that had been taken to ensure the favour had meant that Crooke would have had to pull a few strings and send confirmation to him as soon as possible. Diana had not been aware of the process.

She calmed down fairly quickly, though she still looked shaken. Richard kissed her forehead. "We still have time," he said, hoping he sounded reassuring.

"Not enough," her smile was sad.

"I am sorry."

Diana shook her head. "It will do," she squeezed his hands and stood up, tucking her hair behind her ears. "I should call Sarah and get ready, and she ought to tell John the letter was nothing to worry about," as she spoke, she drifted towards the bed, picking up one of her dresses and holding it up to look at it critically. "I suppose I should wear this today, it _is_ Christmas Eve. Could you – what?"

Richard had folded his arms across his chest and was watching her with his eyebrows raised, making no move to do the things she had clearly asked of him. Diana looked confused at his stance, until he approached her and plucked the dress from her hands.

"We are not going anywhere," he told her. "I will go and give John the letter, so he can read it and tell Darcy, who will ensure that my mother does not panic when she hears that an express came for me. After that, you and I are going to stay in this room and talk or sleep or do _anything_ except socialize with the other people in this house, because newly-wed couples are not expected to be at the beck and call of their families every day. Is that clear?"

Diana's eyes twinkled. "Is that an order, Major General?"

Richard snorted. "If only it were that easy."

Diana laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek. "You are adorable," she told him, still smiling. "I will do as you say, but only because I cannot remember the last time you and I did something for ourselves," as she spoke, her fingers travelled down his neck and shoulder joint, coming to rest against the buttons of his shirt pointedly. "Can you?" she fluttered her eyelashes innocently.

He could, actually. Richard worked very hard to commit to memory every moment he spent with his wife, knowing that he would have nothing but those thoughts to keep him going when he was away from her. He _should_ talk to her about her father, force her to open up so that she could feel better about it, perhaps even begin to heal. There would be little time for her to do so in his absence, a multitude of things would keep her busy and he did not want her to deal with the backlash of a casual comment by an unsympathetic matron or relative alone. In conclusion, he should push her away, gently but firmly, and tell her they needed to talk.

But he did no such thing. Instead, he kissed her and vowed that he would talk to her later. Soon. But not now. Now, he would give in to what she wanted, because in that moment he knew he wanted nothing more than her.

* * *

 **Hallo, lovelies! Yes yes I know, it's a little filler-y, but after the bit on Diana's father I couldn't bear to dump too much onto us, I'm still emotionally recovering from chapter 50.**

 **Also, how did NO ONE ever ask me what was the deal with her dad? I swear I have dropped so many hints that there was something going on there...**

 **The song she sings is an Irish poem by the way! It was quite popular in the Regency Era, but I heard a modern version of it and thought it was beautiful. It's called "The Last Rose of Summer", and you can potentially find it on YouTube. The version I had in mind is by Laura Wright, incidentally that is also how I imagine Diana's voice to be :) give it a listen if you're interested!**

 **Anyway, thank you to the lovely comments I got for the last chapter! It had a lot thrown into it, but I'm glad it came off well.**

 **JN: I'm glad you're enjoying it!**

 **M: Thank you for your kind words :)**

 **Gaskellian: thanks for sticking with me for so long, 50 is really no mean feat but I'm not even close to done yet! Stay tuned for more, love to read your thoughts xx**

 **Jansfamily4: It really was emotional, wasn't it? Too much for me, but we're diving right back into the angst in the next chapter so the little bit of fluff in this one should be enjoyable - while it lasts!**

 **Motherof8: There will be many confrontations, but I need to space them out or all the juicy stuff will be over before the story fully ends!**

 **MissThang22700: Thank you so much! So glad you like her. Yes, she is quite strong, she has to be, but it's nice to know she has someone who can take care of her when she needs it!**

 **Deanna27: Oh, you do understand their relationship beautifully! I always look forward to your interpretation - they really are amazing, aren't they? (BUT angst is coming, so enjoy it while you can!)**

 **Wonderful reviews as always, you guys know how much I appreciate you :) just to put it out there, I am in no way undermining suicide or the seriousness of such an outcome / the situations that lead to it... it was always my intention from the beginning for the story to take this turn, and if you read the chapters in which Diana and Mina fight you can tell quite clearly that her father's death had a story behind it. This was the best way for me to represent that, so if I have upset someone I apologize and please know it wasn't my intention to do any such thing.**

 **All in all, I feel like this was a half-way successful chapter. Not as happy with it as I'd have liked to be, but I have essays due before the end of March so you all know what that means... more updates! Until next time, much love xxx**


	52. Chapter 52

"We have to get up eventually."

"That does not mean _now_."

"You haven't eaten since morning."

"Neither have you."

"That is my point," and with one final shove, Diana firmly pushed her husband away so she could sit up. Ignoring his groan, she ran a hand through her loose hair, wilder than ever because _someone_ could not keep their hands out of it, and reached for her robe. Slipping it on, she swatted Richard's hand away once more before ringing for Sarah and throwing him a bemused look. "What has got you so clingy?"

" _Clingy_ ," Richard snorted at the word, throwing an arm over his eyes and making a point to turn away from her.

Diana laughed, pulling him back onto his back. She pushed his arm off his eyes and kissed his nose. "Clingy," she confirmed.

"Brat," shot back Richard. Diana merely rested her chin on his bare chest, quirking up an eyebrow to show she still wanted an answer. Richard huffed. "I want to spend some time with my wife, that is all. Is it a crime?"

"A sin," said Diana seriously. Richard pinched her waist through her robe, and she yelped before swatting at his chest. "That hurt!"

"Liar. I've hurt you plenty worse before, and you've enjoyed it every time," Richard smirked as his words caused her to blush crimson, and she promptly hid her face in his chest. He chuckled and caressed her hair, tugging at her curls teasingly. "What, no smart answer to that?"

"You are horrible," she muttered. "I'm leaving."

Richard did not believe her at first, but as she slipped out of his arms and made to leave the bed, he caught her about the waist and held fast. By way of an apology, he kissed her hair. "Did I offend you, my love?"

Diana did not respond, keeping her face turned away. Richard kissed her hair again, and hid a smile as he let her go. Immediately, she scooted to the edge of the bed, glaring at him over her shoulder. "You are a dog, Richard Fitzwilliam."

"Your humble servant, madam," he replied cheekily. His wife was still scowling at him through narrowed eyes, but he merely lay back in bed and grinned, completely at ease.

And then, to his utter astonishment, Diana threw a pillow at him.

It hit him full in the face, and it took him over a minute to respond. "Did you just –" he spluttered for a second before giving up, tossing the pillow back to her. "Minx," he muttered.

"Is that a problem? I thought that was why you married me," Diana raised an eyebrow.

Richard snorted. "Clearly I did not know what I was getting myself into. Can a man not expect his wife to obey him once in a while?"

Diana snickered. "Many men do," she admitted, then added, "However, if _this_ man wants to keep his wife happy, he will avoid using the word _obey_."

Richard sat up, twirling the sash of her robe around his fingers. His attempts to discreetly pull her closer via it were far from subtle, but Diana did not try to stop him. "How else will I get you to listen to me?"

"By asking me nicely," said Diana, in a tone that implied it was obvious.

"That would mean you've won."

Diana smirked. "Just this argument?"

"Does it matter?" a rather sharp tug resulted in Diana edging closer to him, to avoid her robe opening at the front.

"Darling, we are married," trying to ignore his actions, she rolled her eyes. "I will _always_ win."

Richard smile went from teasing to adoring in a second, and his final tug resulted in Diana's face inches from his own. "You may win every battle, but I won the ultimate prize."

His words took her by surprise, and Diana had barely let out a laugh before he was kissing her, his aim clearly to coax her back into bed to avoid both of their social responsibilities for the entirety of the day. And for a while, she allowed herself to be distracted. Richard was an excellent kisser, and his warm hands clutched at her body with just the right amount of force to elicit certain noises from her mouth, which would have been highly scandalous had they not been husband and wife in the privacy of their bedroom. When his mouth pulled away from hers and began to inch down her neck, she realized she was not the only one being loud. The thought made her smirk in self-satisfaction even as her eyes rolled back into her head with pleasure, and Diana was tempted to simply allow Richard to take charge so they could spend the next several hours occupying themselves with the same – highly enjoyable – activity they had indulged in since that morning. It was nice, after all, to act like a newly-married couple helplessly in love and unable to keep their hands off each other. It was what they were, and as she felt Richard's teeth just barely graze the joint of her shoulder and neck, Diana had made up her mind that this particular distraction sounded like a very, _very_ good idea right now.

And then Sarah knocked on the door.

Richard growled in frustration even as Diana let out a surprised laugh. The arm around her waist tightened, and he continued to press kisses to her neck, making no sign that he was willing to be interrupted. The fingers of his free hand had already undone the front of her robe before she realized what he was doing.

"She won't go away if we just ignore her," Diana tried to reason with him breathlessly.

"She will," his warm breath tickled the skin of her neck.

"Richard, we should –"

"Darling, if you are not quiet soon I will be forced to _make_ you shut up."

" _Make_ me –"

He cut her off with a searing kiss, and Diana gave up immediately. The knocking ceased soon after, but they were both too far gone by that point to pay attention.

 **!**

"We could have eaten downstairs like normal people," said Diana. She watched her husband devour the luncheon that Sarah had thankfully left outside their room on a tray and swiped a piece of carrot from his plate. "I knew you were hungry."

"My hunger is quite satisfied," replied Richard, in that teasing tone of voice that always made Diana blush even though his words sounded completely innocent – until you thought about them. Diana threw her carrot at him, and it bounced off his temple harmlessly. Richard ignored her and pierced a slice of beef with his fork, turning to her and holding it out. "You, on the other hand, have not eaten anything since your tea this morning."

"And you're going to feed me, I suppose?" Diana raised an eyebrow in amusement.

Richard did not answer, merely held out the food with a look that said he would not leave her alone until she ate. Shrugging, Diana allowed him to feed her a few bites. Five minutes later, she was curled up into his side and picking at his plate sheepishly. "I knew you were hungry," said Richard smugly. Diana pinched his arm. Richard allowed her a few more minutes and when she finally seemed to be finished, he nudged her shoulder. "We need to talk, Diana," he said gently.

"About what?" she asked absently, still focused on the plate of food.

"Last night."

Almost immediately, she stiffened next to him. Richard glanced down at her, only to see her shaking her head firmly. "No," she said simply.

"No?" Richard raised his eyebrows.

"No, we do not need to speak of what happened. I already told you it was unfortunate, and I do not plan for it to happen again."

Richard ran a hand through his hair wearily. "Yes, it was unfortunate, but how do you plan for it to never happen again?"

She sniffed. "I simply need to control myself better."

"You can't think that blocking out all your emotions and not dealing with the problem at hand will make everything better, can you?"

"I am not blocking –"

"Yes, you are," interrupted Richard. Diana opened her mouth to retort, but he held up a hand. Giving her a look that told her they were not finished, he picked up the tray they had been eating from and deposited it outside the door, thereby ensuring they would not be disturbed during their conversation. When he returned to the sofa upon which they had been seated, he saw that Diana had wrapped her arms around her knees and was curled up at one end, further away from him than she had been before he had left. Ignoring her silent request for some space, Richard took a seat next to her and tugged at her arms, pulling her legs free and draping them over his lap before reaching for her hands. He held them tightly in his own and waited patiently until Diana finally looked at him, her eyes guarded. He kissed her knuckles. "I love you," he told her quietly. "I know you do not want to speak of it, but if I did not think it would help I would not mention any of this, believe me."

Diana bit her lip. "What exactly would you like to discuss?" she asked finally.

Richard took a deep breath. "What my aunt said to you was wrong," he began, slightly hesitant. Diana's face remained impassive, though her grip on his hands tightened. "She was wrong to hold you accountable for things beyond your control. I need to know that you realize none of those things are your fault," Diana scoffed, turning away, but Richard held fast. "Diana, please."

For a moment, he thought she would continue to struggle, but then the defiant spark in her eyes seemed to die out. Her shoulders slumped. "It doesn't matter that none of those things are my fault," she said quietly. Her gaze was fixed downwards, but she was clutching at his hands tightly. "I am all that is left to remind people of terrible things – my father's death, my mother's behaviour, Charles' death, the fact that I'm _barren_ –" Richard flinched at the word, at the way she threw it out like it was a curse. She looked up at him, her eyes full of grief. "How can you expect me to take it all in stride, Richard?"

"I don't expect you to do that at all," he soothed, half-relieved that she was indeed talking to him and yet guilt-ridden because of the pain he knew he was causing her. "I simply do not want it to affect you as much as it does."

"Easy for you to say," muttered Diana, looking away again. "You're leaving."

His heart clenched. "Diana, I –"

"I do not begrudge you going, I understand why you need to leave and I will support you in this," the line was flat, rehearsed, but Diana looked up at him and he saw that, despite the pain, she truly meant what she said. "I would never stop you going, but I will never _want_ you to go either."

Richard chose not to respond, deciding to address _that_ particular issue another time. "You have always believed that people will talk just as much as we let them," he tried a different angle. "Why does this matter as much? Surely you are letting people keep talking by acting so affected?"

Diana shook her head smilingly. "They do not talk about me just because I act upset, darling."

Richard frowned. "I do not understand, then."

"You do not understand society like I do," her smile was bitter. "I fought to get where I am, Richard, and for so long I was one of those women that people did not dare to talk about, because anything and everything they said would find its way back to me," she squeezed his hands. "I stopped being that woman the day I married you." Richard blinked and opened his mouth to speak, not quite knowing what to say. However, he found Diana's fingers were pressed against his lips before he could formulate words, the dull expression in her eyes having been exchanged for a slightly livelier one. "I don't regret it for a second," she told him. "Last night was upsetting, yes, I admit that. I have not been that hurt in a while, and because it was your aunt it was all the more painful. But even that would not make me regret this. Knowing that I have you to turn to is what helps."

"But I won't be around every time," said Richard weakly.

"No, you won't," Diana shifted her position so she could rest her head against his shoulder. Richard draped an arm around her, holding her tightly against his side. "But you made me realize that I _do_ have other people to stick up for me, should I need help. I suppose that counts as progress."

 _Yes, it does._ "Of course," said Richard immediately. "I told you, they will never allow a word to be said against you."

Diana smiled. "I would much prefer to have _you_ as my knight in shining armour atop a white horse, if I am being honest. It isn't half as romantic when Emily has to come to my aid."

Richard smiled at her attempts to lighten the mood. "Emily will have to give up her role as your protector once I come back, you know."

"Yes," Diana's tone was dismissive, in a way that made Richard slightly uncomfortable though he could not decide why. "Is that all you wanted to talk about, then?"

A small voice in the back of his head was telling him to quit while he was ahead, but Richard ignored it. It was rare that he had his wife to himself, and it would probably be better for her to have an emotional breakdown – should it be necessary – with just him as a witness rather than another public incident like the previous night. "I had hoped we could talk about your father," said Richard carefully. Almost automatically, his arms tightened around Diana, and as he felt her shift in his grip, he knew that had he loosened his hold even slightly she would have inched away.

"What about him?" her tone was guarded, careful.

Richard shrugged, attempting to be casual. "We never talked about him."

"There was nothing to talk about. You know how he died," Diana snapped.

Richard chose to ignore the hostility emitting from her and merely rested his cheek against the top of her head. "I just want to know more about how he was with you," he said, keeping his tone pacifying. "We do not have to discuss his death if it distresses you."

"Distresses me?" Diana laughed humourlessly. "Why would my father hanging himself in my childhood home while I was away _shopping_ bother me at all?" she made to get up, but Richard refused to ease his grip. Her tone went from mocking to outraged. "Let me _go_!"

"No," he said simply. Diana's eyes glinted with the familiar anger that he had not seen since before their engagement, and for a moment he was hesitant. Then, he steeled himself. "You can say whatever you want from right here, can you not?"

"And what is it you want me to say?" she was practically spitting fire, her cheeks flushed with the familiar hue he was surprised to find that he had missed. Though he loved comforting his wife and keeping her close, she had hardly ever given him a reason to do so. It was oddly reassuring to learn that she could still defend herself rather splendidly, should she feel the need. If only she did not feel the need with _him_.

Of course, her fury was not directed at him, but rather their topic of conversation. Richard did not care how angry she was at the moment – Diana could slap him as hard as she liked and he would still keep her trapped until she finally spoke to him. "I want you to say what you feel," he said, his voice still calm.

Diana ground her teeth and made to push him away, seemingly intent on removing herself from his grasp, but Richard took advantage of his strength and refused to let her move even an inch. He was rarely rough with her, and he had no doubt that his grip on her arm may leave a mark soon, but he trusted she would be understanding of it later. Indeed, at the current moment she seemed to barely feel it. Her eyes burned holes into his own as she stared him down, her breathing harsh and uneven, even as he stared back unimpressed. Handling Diana when she was in a temper was something he excelled at. "Your attempts to analyse my every move are maddening, Richard, and I cannot understand what you mean by such behaviour!" finally, she managed to put some distance between them, and her breaths came heavier with the combination of the effort and her anger. "What do you want me to say?" she demanded again, her voice growing louder with every word she spoke. "That I am heartbroken he died, and that the way he died upsets me every time I think of it? That my mother's words and behaviour following his death were nothing short of _despicable_ and I can just add that to the long list of things I can never forgive her for? Or perhaps you would like to know just how it feels to lose the only parent who has ever given two hoots about you as a person and not just a way to increase her pin-money? Or maybe –" but then she was choking on her own words as tears leaked out of her eyes, and Richard was coaxing her back into his lap despite her best attempts to fight him off. He ignored the slight sting as her nails dug into his arms even as she buried her head into his chest and sighed quietly, the feeling of success bittersweet.

"You've never said any of these things to me before," he murmured quietly as she continued to cry silently in his arms.

"What good would it do?" asked Diana miserably. Richard waited for a moment, expecting her to look up, but her tears had not abated and she continued to sob quietly into his chest, the sounds heart-breaking. It was a few more minutes before he felt her breathing relax, and he kissed the top of her head, finally managing to get her to look at him. The fire in her eyes had died, only to be replaced by a glassy sheen that was no doubt the result of reliving memories she would rather forget.

"Do you think it does you any good to keep such things inside?" he asked finally, his hands rhythmically stroking her hair. "All it does is upset you."

Diana sniffed, but her voice was steadier when she spoke, as if she was trying to make him understand how she felt rather than scream at him for questioning her. "Pappa killed himself, Richard. I cannot simply talk to Rose or Emily about how much I miss him or how I feel as if what happened was unfair. It just isn't done."

"You can talk to me about it though," he persisted. "I am not Rose or Emily, Diana, and while I do think that you need your friends for many things I do not think I am flattering myself when I say that _this_ is something you need only _me_ for."

"We've barely been married long enough for these things to come up," muttered Diana, though the hostility was gone.

"Ours is not a traditional marriage, my love," he reminded her gently. "Talking about your father will make it easier for you to hear his name, and make you realize that his death and your past have no connection at all. I am still here, so you must make use of it. Talking to me will ease your mind, I promise you."

Diana looked lost. "What is there to talk about, though?" she asked, sounding genuinely confused. "He is gone, and nothing anyone says will make the way he died less of a scandal. People stopped talking about it when I married Charles, and even when I married you I was sure no one would bring it up, that our marriage itself would be enough for them to gossip and speak of until they found something new. But if your own family cannot forget it –"

"Aunt Ellen is just one person," interrupted Richard, firmly but gently. "Nobody else thinks any less of you because of circumstances you cannot control."

"Just because they do not say it out loud does not mean they are not thinking of it."

Richard sighed. "Darling, I have told you this before. We cannot control the way people think, merely the way they treat us," he saw the ghost of a smile on Diana's face at his words. "What is it?"

"You've said that to me before," despite her tear-stained cheeks, he saw her lips twitch.

Indeed he had. Richard blinked in surprise. "You remember?"

"Yes," the hand that had previously been clutching at his arm uncomfortably now touched his cheek with an infinite amount of gentleness. "You caught me hiding behind the curtains at Almack's, the week after your mother introduced us."

Richard chucked softly, his mind immediately going back to that day. "I asked what you thought you were doing and you said some lord or the other kept proposing to you and you were sick of it."

"You said I should be happy someone wanted to marry me after the rumour you had spread."

Richard snorted. "You said I was a buffoon and that I should leave you alone _again_ ," playfully, he tugged on a lock of her hair. "Were you jealous I had not been paying you any attention that evening, my love?"

Diana hummed, resting her head against his chest. "You always insisted on dancing with all those twittering idiots. And then you said that you'd help me if I agreed to dance the next set with you."

"You said you didn't want to."

"You said if I rejected you I'd have to sit out the rest of the dances."

"You said you were quite willing to do it if it meant I stayed away from you."

Diana giggled. "I really was hard to please, it is a wonder I said yes to your proposal the first time around."

"It is a wonder you said yes to me the second time," muttered Richard.

"What, after that grand speech you had prepared?" Diana sounded amused. "How could I refuse?"

"Alright, enough of that," he rolled his eyes. "What happened next?"

Diana shrugged. "You said you were disappointed that I would sacrifice my entire evening just to get away from you; I had not seemed like the kind of girl who cared about what people thought."

"And then you hit me with your fan, did you not?"

"Not hard enough," smiled Diana. "

He grabbed her hand playfully before pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "You said people already thought you were strange and you did not want to make it worse," he murmured against her skin.

Her fingers wrapped around his. "And that's when you said that we cannot control the way people think, but we _can_ control the way they treat us. And then your pretty words convinced me to dance with you, after which you always insisted on sending me flowers after every ball we saw each other at."

"It was the customary thing for an admirer to do," defended Richard.

Diana shook her head smilingly. "You did not admire me then," she squeezed his hand. "You did it because you realized I had missed you whilst you were off flirting with heiresses, and you wanted to show me you hadn't forgotten about me."

"And is that not admiration?"

"Perhaps, but admiration does not always lead to love."

"It did in our case."

Diana smiled. "I suppose we were the exception."

Richard nodded thoughtfully. "I quite like being the exception."

* * *

 **I have been dying to work the title in somehow, it was initially supposed to be while they were fighting and she would sort of spit out something like "you are the exception to my every rule and I hate it" but it didn't fit... But now that I've written it I am DYING for her to say these words. Ah well, sequel it is then!**

 **Sorry for the lateness my lovelies, I have two essays due next week AND then I'm travelling so I thought I would leave you all with this one until then. I actually quite like it, I love writing just Diana and Richard but the story will move out of the bedroom now, so be prepared for choppy chapters but loads more action! Let me know what you thought of this one, I love the way they interact when one of them is angry so I couldn't resist adding that bit in.**

 **As always, many thanks to the ever-faithful review team:**

 **Gaskellian: I'm so fascinated by _North and South_ , dying to read it actually but I just can't find the time, would it be worth getting into? I would love your thoughts on it, also very glad you appreciated the chapter xx**

 **Deanna27: You asked for it! He will come up again and again of course, but this is a good starting point on talking about him, I think?**

 **Motherof8: They really are adorable, the parting scene is going to break my heart when I type it, but that's is how stories live on. Absence does make the heart grow fonder!**

 **HarnGin: Clever of you to see that coming, I had dropped hints but I was surprised no one had picked up on it yet!**

 **Jansfamily4: Won't reveal too much about what's going to happen next, but Diana's strength won't be wasted and I do believe in happy endings!**

 **catelyntully11: Glad you enjoyed it so much, I hope this one lived up to expectations! The angsty one was my favourite as well, but it really took so much out of me that I think I'll need a few mindless and plot-heavy chapters before I can go back to writing so much emotion in one go! Still, I'm glad you appreciated it!**

 **That's all for now, my lovelies. I have opted to post this chapter without excessive edits and proofs, so excuse any glaringly obvious mistakes and any rambling you may see. I thought it would be best to get a chapter out there for you all to enjoy. I will hopefully see you soon, fingers crossed! Until then, much love xx**


	53. Chapter 53

"You look positively frazzled for someone who is not our esteemed hostess," commented Henry as he observed his wife glaring at the collection of gowns strewn around her chambers, and the accompanying articles that he was sure somehow made up the rest of her outfit for Christmas day.

Emily sighed, running a hand through her loose blonde hair as she gestured to the maids to leave the room. They left hurriedly, exchanging looks of fright. Their mistress had clearly not been in a good mood for the entirety of the morning.

"Frazzled is a good word for it," she said finally, sinking down into an armchair by the fireplace and offering her husband a small smile. "I did not realize you would come looking for me."

Henry shrugged and sat down opposite her, carefully removing a roll of lace from the back of his chair as he did so. "Richard is refusing to leave his wife's side currently, no doubt finally realizing that his idiotic decision to leave means he will not see her for nearly a year. The new Mrs. Darcy is delightful, yet I cannot seem to find her or her husband this fine morning. Mamma is unbearable without you to shield me from her exclamations, and Father has locked himself away in the library."

"You could have gone to see Georgiana," commented Emily, her eyes fixed on her left hand as she rubbed at a chipped nail slowly.

Henry scoffed. "And what does one talk about with a girl who is not yet a woman but no longer a child?"

Emily smiled a little, still refusing to look up. "And what about your children?"

"Margaret is asleep, and Henry is far too invested in a new drawing. I wonder at his love for art," mused Henry, remembering the look of concentration on his son's face when he had wandered into the nursery earlier. "He certainly does not get it from my side of the family."

"My Pappa quite liked to draw," said Emily quietly. "And no doubt he has been inspired by Diana."

"The boy positively worships her," agreed Henry. Then, he quirked an eyebrow. "Pappa enjoyed art?"

"Yes, he did," Emily looked up and smiled at her husband before vacating her chair, moving towards the dresses scattered across the bed. She began to pick them up, fold them neatly and place them in a pile in the corner. Henry watched her from his chair, taking note of the way his heart had practically skipped a beat when she had smiled at him. His observations were almost detached, as if he were reading about his emotions rather than experiencing them. That he loved his wife was no secret; he doubted there was a person alive who did not know of their rather unconventional courtship and marriage. Still, it was odd, the way she said so little and yet made him feel so much. Emily was talkative on her bad days, and on her good days she was a force of energy, the sun in his drab world of politics, meetings at the club and meals he would rather have in his room.

However, when they were alone together, a curious shyness had always seemed to take over her. And for the first time in over eight years, Henry wondered at it. He had no idea what was making him think such things. He was perfectly content in his marriage, happy, even. Emily was beautiful and good and kind, an excellent mother to his children and a dutiful daughter to his parents. She was wonderful as a wife – she knew his likes and dislikes, his moods and his secrets.

And yet, she did not respond to his every touch the way Diana responded to Richard. She did not watch him from across the room the way Elizabeth watched Darcy. It had never bothered him before, but now he felt it did; was that how couples in love were supposed to act?

"You're being very pensive," her sweet voice jolted him out of his reverie. He blinked and refocused on her face. She was standing in front of him, smiling but looking rather concerned. "Are you alright, Henry?"

Henry shook his head, getting to his feet and nodding briskly. "Quite," he cleared his throat, suddenly feeling awkward and dying to break the tension. A thought came to him, and he pounced on it. "I have something for you," he said suddenly, moving towards the table on his side of the bed. He rummaged through the drawer for only a moment before carefully drawing out the single white envelope he had hidden in it some days ago. When he turned back, Emily was still standing in the middle of the room, arms folded across her chest and a small smile playing at her lips. It made him smile, too.

"So mysterious," she said teasingly. "Is this a Christmas present? I thought we would open them with the rest of the family after luncheon."

"I would rather give this to you in private," replied Henry, holding out the envelope. When she saw it, her eyebrows shot up. The last time Henry had given her anything but jewellery at Christmas was before they had been married. Throwing him a bemused glance, she flipped it over, took out the single piece of paper within and read through it quickly. When she was done, her eyes widened. She looked up at him with wonder. "Did you –"

"I did," Henry smiled sheepishly. "I did not think you would object."

"This is a – a – a –" Emily stuttered.

"A letter confirming what date the inn expects us to arrive and the various carriages booked to take us onwards," Henry nodded. "I promised you we would go to the Lakes when we married. I may be a decade or so late, but I wanted to keep my promise."

"But the children –"

"We have an excellent nurse, and Diana has graciously agreed to help Mamma in looking after them."

Emily's face broke into a smile, and suddenly she was as beautiful and lively as she had been the day he had met her, all sunshine and laughter and twinkling eyes. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him fiercely, pulling back just long enough to kiss his smiling lips before resting her head against his shoulder again, her arms still tight around him.

A breathless laugh escaped her mouth, and Henry chuckled along with her. Yes, his marriage was not the same as his brother's, or his cousin's. But he was happy, and he made the woman he loved happy. For the time being, it would suffice.

 **!**

"I feel as though we are being terrible hosts."

Darcy rolled his eyes. "They can hardly expect us to be available all the time."

"Forgive me, husband. Have I not been an attentive wife these past weeks?" Elizabeth's eyes sparkled in amusement as she turned around in his husband's arms, raising an eyebrow teasingly at his sour look. They were in the mistress' chambers, still in their nightclothes and enjoying a lazy morning by the fire. The rest of the house was not awake, and even if they were, most of them had clearly found other ways to occupy themselves until luncheon, when the family would meet downstairs to open presents.

Despite his mood, Darcy smiled. "You are as attentive a wife as you are a hostess, my love."

"Hopefully that reflects well on me, then."

"It does. My aunt is most impressed."

"Your family are quite easy to please," Elizabeth sighed. "I fear it is _my_ family we should be worrying about."

"Why?" for once, it seemed her husband found the source of her distress amusing, rather than the other way around. "Pemberley is big enough to avoid all your sisters and their husbands for however long they choose to come and stay."

Elizabeth hit his arm half-heartedly, contemplating his words for only a moment before shaking her head. "I know how hard it is for you to –"

"It isn't," interrupted Darcy gently. "You dealt with Lady Catherine for me, Elizabeth. I would deal with a hundred Mrs. Bennets and Miss Bennets for you."

At the mental image of her husband going up against one hundred clones of her mother, Elizabeth had to laugh. "We are lucky there is no chance of you having to do that, then," she smiled. "However, say what you will about my mamma, she is not nearly as bad as Mrs. Harris."

"Diana's mother?" Elizabeth frowned and Darcy frowned. "That woman is a creature unto herself."

"It amazes me how Diana is so sweet. Her mother is truly awful to her."

"Her father was a good man," Darcy played with a lock of his wife's hair absently. "No doubt that has something to do with her temperament. And she spent a great deal of time with my aunt, after he passed. That was another positive influence."

"I wonder if things would have been different, had she been able to marry Richard before," mused Elizabeth. "They fit so well together."

"If nothing else, she does make sure he acts his age," commented Darcy dryly. Elizabeth laughed again. He kissed the top of her head. "They are very happy together," he murmured quietly. "But we are happier."

"I said much the same about us when I wrote to my aunt about our marriage and Jane and Bingley's," Elizabeth shook her head smilingly. "I do think they would disagree, however."

Darcy ignored her remark, raising an eyebrow curiously. "What did you say to your aunt?"

"Only that I was happier than Jane, because she would only smile while I would laugh."

Darcy chuckled. "Did you plan from the very start to make a joke out of your husband, Mrs. Darcy?"

Elizabeth winked. "Would I be your Lizzie if I answered that truthfully?"

Her husband smiled adoringly, pressing another kiss to the crown of her head. "You are my Lizzie no matter how much you tease me," he murmured. "As long as you keep laughing."

"That does not sound too difficult," Elizabeth rested her head against his chest contentedly. "I don't think you would ever give me cause _not_ to be happy, Mr. Darcy."

 **!**

"Is unwrapping presents always this exciting?" asked Diana in amusement as she sat down by Georgiana. Elizabeth laughed and shrugged helplessly, as much a newcomer as the other woman into the Fitzwilliam/Darcy family traditions, but Georgiana looked surprised.

"Was it not as loud in your home?" she asked curiously, accepting a present that Richard tossed her from his position at the base of the tree – he was gleefully throwing packages to their recipients, but one pointed glare from Diana had made him smile sheepishly and gently hand over what was left of Henry's presents to the little boy instead of teasingly holding them out of reach.

Diana's smile faltered, but fortunately Darcy inquired as to Georgiana's gift, effectively engaging his sister in conversation before she had to respond. However, Elizabeth was still watching her. Diana shrugged when she caught her eye. "The Herberts were not a close-knit family. Christmas was never a large affair."

Elizabeth smiled sympathetically. "Surely you had many enjoyable holidays as a child, though?"

Diana smiled. "My pappa liked Christmas," then she wrinkled her nose. "Mother enjoyed the presents."

Elizabeth laughed lightly, and Diana winked before turning back, just in time to catch the package her husband had tossed in her direction. She glared at him again, and he laughed. "Good catch!" he called out cheekily.

"The nerve," muttered Diana, rolling her eyes at his childishness. Endearing as he was, he had been unbearable since Christmas day had dawned, dragging her out of a pleasant slumber at an inappropriately early hour for equally inappropriate activities that, while enjoyable, required more energy than she felt herself capable of mustering after such little sleep. When they had finally wandered downstairs the rest of the family had joined them soon after breakfast-time, except Emily and Henry. Though the children were restless, Emily had soon sent Henry down to say if someone even tried to open presents without her they could spend the next few nights in the nursery – everyone had waited patiently after that threat.

"Most of us gave presents before the ball, I cannot understand how so many are left," sighed Elizabeth, expertly catching another, slightly smaller package as she gazed around at the presents.

"I think the only exchange left is between the Fitzwilliams and the Darcys now," said Diana. "I certainly do not expect any more gifts from them after all they have given me."

"And you did not have to get us anything at all, we are simply glad you came," said Elizabeth, looking down pointedly at the package she had just caught which had Diana's neat handwriting on it.

"You hosted my _wedding_ , Elizabeth," Diana rolled her eyes. "I would truly be a terrible guest if I didn't get you anything."

Elizabeth snorted. "You should wait until my mother comes before giving out that title so casually."

Diana laughed. "I like your mother," she giggled at Elizabeth's surprised look. "She ought to spend more time with mine, I daresay they would be good for each other."

"Or they'd rip each other apart."

Diana winked. Elizabeth laughed, then sighed again when she saw Georgiana catch another present. "I did not realize how big a deal Christmas was here, if I am being honest."

"Neither did I, dear, though I do recall Emily saying that the Fitzwilliams love any chance to give gifts," Diana smiled. "Darcy is surely the same. How many presents have you received today?"

Elizabeth blushed. "Three," she admitted. "And I feel terrible since I could never offer him anything as grand as what he has given me."

"In my experience, men do not seem interested in payback from the women they love," Diana rolled her eyes and patted Elizabeth's shoulder. "Specially in this family. They really are an odd bunch, aren't they?"

Elizabeth laughed again, and then they both winced as Richard tackled his brother to the ground for no apparent reason, laughing merrily at the ensuing curses. Emily glared at them both and shielded her son's ears from his father's foul language.

* * *

 **I have been gone for so long! The internet in my part of the world is truly awful and I've been going through some personal things - my family is moving from the country I've lived in my whole life, and even though I'm at uni in a different country and I travel back and forth a lot anyway, it's just a very confusing time for the younger kids in our household (bearing in mind I live in a joint-family home!). This story is normally my safe space, but I haven't been able to make myself work on it with as much love as I normally do. I'm hoping this chapter is a nice, light alternative to the angst everyone can expect in the sequel and the last few chapters.**

 **Special thanks to my reviewers from last time, catelyntully11, Gaskellian (I started reading North and South on your recommendation and I'm loving it1!), Deanna27, Motherof8, Jansfamily4, HarnGin.  It's nice to know people are still enjoying the story. More soon. Much love xxx**


	54. Chapter 54

**Warning: this one's REALLY sad!**

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"Darling, are you _really_ going to follow me around for the rest of the day?"

Richard rolled his eyes. "I am not _following_ you."

"I have gone from the kitchens to the parlour to the library and back up here again, and you have been everywhere I go," said Diana bluntly. She looked up from the paper she was sketching on, giving him a pointed look. "Is there something on your mind?"

"No," said Richard, rather peevishly. Diana rolled her eyes, but did not speak. She returned to her drawing, and he resisted the urge to snatch it out of her hands. But then, what would be do once he had done that? It was easier to stare at her when she was occupied, and he loved the soft crease between her eyebrows that developed when she was concentrating. He was simply in a terrible mood – the Boxing Day hunt had been cancelled due to poor weather, and while the rest of the men had been only too happy to spend some extra time with their wives, he was trying hard not to take out his bad temper on his own. However, it was proving difficult since she seemed to find her current activity far more interesting than him.

A sharp knock at the door interrupted his sulk, and Diana did not look up from her drawing. Rolling his eyes, he got up from his seat opposite her to open the door. It was Sarah.

"Morning, sir," she curtseyed hastily, scurrying past him in her usual, meek way towards her mistress. Richard frowned when he saw her bend down to whisper something into her ear, and was surprised to see Diana's eyes light up with excitement at her words.

"What is it?" he asked curiously.

"Nothing to worry about," Diana positively beamed as she stood up, putting away her tools and nodding to Sarah, who scampered from the room quickly. As the door shut behind her, Diana followed, stopping only long enough to touch his arm. "Can I trust you not to follow me this time?"

"Why?" asked Richard, his hand closing around her wrist as she made to leave.

Diana looked pointedly at his hold on her, and he let her go with a rather sheepish look. "Because I want it to be a surprise," she confessed, her eyes sparkling.

"What kind of a –"

"Silly, it's a surprise for _you_! Promise me you won't follow?"

Richard groaned. "Fine. Go."

Diana grinned, kissed his cheek again and darted out of the room. Richard huffed in annoyance, his eyes drifting towards the desk in the corner, where Diana had hastily put her charcoal and paper. She had been working on the same drawing for a few days now, but he had never seen it – she had always stuffed it out of sight when he came near, and he had never thought anything of it because she usually preferred to show him her work when it was complete. Curiosity ignited, however, he turned over a few pages idly. What he saw made him frown in confusion.

At first glance, it looked like a drawing of little Henry, seated outside in Pemberley's gardens. Richard could tell it had started out as a simple sketch of some of the flowers in the courtyard that the ladies frequently had tea in – the plants were decidedly more detailed than the face of the little boy gazing out of the page. Despite the fact that he was inclined to believe it was Henry, something about the picture made Richard frown. The nose was too small and the hair was too curly, shaded to a midnight hue much like Diana's own. Furthermore, the child was too young to be his nephew – the little boy in the drawing barely looked four years old. Diana's skill was extraordinary, however, so he could not understand how she could have made such glaringly obvious mistakes. It could almost be a different child altogether…

But who could it be? Talented as she was, and though he would be the first to admit his wife was incredibly eccentric, he doubted she spent her free time looking at random children to draw, or even daydreaming of them. The features worked together too perfectly – it _had_ to be a real person. Perhaps one of the Herbert children? Richard remembered his mother telling him that the new heir to the earldom had twin sons that Diana had spent some time with. But why draw them? Shrugging, he put the paper back onto her desk, only to see that he had been covering a bit of writing at the corner of the drawing with his hand. It was a single word, and it only served to confuse Richard even more.

 _James_

It was Diana's handwriting – he had seen enough examples to know it was no one else's. James had been her father's name, and he was sure none of Pemberley's staff had children by that name. He could be a tenant, but Diana had not been out to visit the estate-dwellers since they had arrived.

Richard could not understand why it was bothering him so much, this harmless picture of a child. Surely, she was allowed to draw from her imagination as well? Perhaps it was the fact that it was a drawing of a little boy, something that he knew she could never have of her own. They had discussed it once, fleetingly, but had never gone into detail. Diana was heartbroken over her inability to have children, and Richard was heartbroken for her. As for himself…

"Are you snooping?" Diana's amused voice by the door jerked him out of his thoughts, and he dropped the paper back onto the desk. Something told him he would be better off discussing this with her another time, but it was too late. She was already standing next to him, depositing a wrapped package onto the desk and catching him looking at her drawing.

Diana turned red, whether from embarrassment or anger, he could not tell. Richard grimaced. "Do you mind my snooping?"

Her reaction was the opposite of what he expected. "I don't see why you need to snoop," Diana practically snarled, snatching the page off the desk and crumpling it up into a ball. Richard raised his eyebrows. Though he knew it was simply his ill-humour from his inactive day, he could feel his own annoyance grow due to her anger. "Honestly, can you not keep yourself occupied for a few moments _without_ being a pest?"

Richard snorted. "A pest? If that's your idea of an insult, love, you've lost your touch."

Diana's eyes glinted. "I am holding back, I assure you."

"Why? By all means, let loose," he gestured towards himself mockingly. "I am at your service."

Diana glared at him. For a moment, Richard felt remorse – this was his own temper and her annoyance at his behaviour, nothing more. Though, why she would react in such an odd way to his discovery of a picture was simply ridiculous and, as much as he admitted he was led by his wife's whims, he saw no need to facilitate her current one.

"I would rather not waste my time ranting to you about your shortcomings, all of which we are both already aware of," said Diana icily.

"I seem to recall being called _perfect_ by you more often than not," shot back Richard, his own temper getting the best of him at her cold behaviour.

"Then I will be the first to admit I can be wrong," snapped Diana. As she spoke, she grabbed other drawings off the desk, and for the first time Richard noticed how at home she was in his bedroom at Pemberley – her papers were everywhere, easily mixing with his own, as if sharing a space did not bother her in the slightest, even though he knew she had never done so before.

The domesticity soothed his anger, and he sighed quietly. "If you are upset I looked at your drawing, I apologize," he said, his tone weary. It was impossible for him to fight with someone who had as much fire as Diana did – she burned everyone except herself. "I did not think it was such a sensitive subject."

"It isn't," she was still snappish. "It is just a stupid drawing, it means nothing."

Her tone was not angry anymore – it was bitter. Richard frowned, watching as she slammed drawers and shuffled papers that belonged to them both with no particular care for order. Her movements were harsh and erratic, and her face was still crimson. As she slammed the drawer shut, the tremble in her hands became obvious.

"Diana?" Richard touched her back, at a loss as to what had upset her so much. "It really is only a drawing, isn't it?"

She sounded like she was choking when she spoke. "Yes."

"And yet you are shaking," Richard frowned, shifting his hand from her back to her arm. Diana leaned against him heavily, and he felt worry grip his chest at the thought of pushing her too far. "Is this another panic attack?" Diana shook her head, and already the colour was receding from her cheeks. However, she retained her grip on his arm, and would not meet his eyes. "Then tell me what is the matter," he was practically begging, images of her clutching at him at the Christmas Ball flashing through his mind. "You aren't this upset over just a drawing, darling."

Diana let out a dry sob that tore at Richard's heart, and he tried to catch her in his arms, but she resisted. She held a trembling hand up to his chest, gently forcing him to keep his distance as she removed the crumpled pages from the drawer. Richard saw that the drawing he had seen was not the only one of the little boy – there were more, always seemingly added as afterthoughts onto others. He even saw what looked like a sketch of his own face that was half-finished, with a complete drawing of the child in a corner. It was always the little boy's laughing face, with the same features and the same careful details. At the bottom of each sketch, the same name was scrawled: _James._

"I never wanted you to see these," Richard had never heard her sound so heartbroken. "I thought if you happened to glance at them you could never tell, but you could, couldn't you?" she looked at him with shining eyes, a single tear already sliding down her cheek. She sniffed, and Richard finally pushed her hand away and took her into his arms, pressing her back against his chest and nuzzling her neck. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, her shoulders slumping against him.

"It hurts you to speak of it," though he was still confused, he could not stand to hear the pain in her voice, nor see the defeated look in her eyes. "We do not have to –"

"I'm tired of being sad alone," whispered Diana. "Please?" the fact that she felt like she had to ask, hurt him even more. Wordlessly, he kissed her temple, allowing her to continue speaking. She wiped at her eyes, and with a trembling finger pointed to the largest sketch. "I wanted him to have your eyes," her voice was a quiet murmur, barely a sigh in the stillness of their room. "I don't like mine, they're too cold. Yours are always happy – I used to love dancing with you as a girl, because you seemed like the only man who was genuinely pleased to see me smile. But I know you like my hair," her finger drifted towards the midnight curls of the little boy almost as if she was caressing a living thing, and Richard closed his eyes, letting out a ragged breath when he realized what she meant. "So, I thought he should have my hair. The rest just came naturally. A curly haired little boy with your eyes, named for my father. It was my dream."

"Diana, stop," his voice was hoarse.

"It started out as a joke, you know," he did not know if she had even heard him. Her tone had become absent – her hand dropped from the page, hanging limply by her side. Richard cradled it carefully in his own. "My drawing master always said I had a knack for faces, and I used to treat all my girlfriend to sketches of what their children might look like, provided they could show me the man they wanted to marry. I even made one for Emily, and I am sure Charlotte will look exactly like how I pictured her when she is older. They always asked me why I never made one for myself."

"Why not?" murmured Richard. His heart was aching with every word she spoke, but her voice was growing stronger – she needed to talk, and so he would listen.

"Because there was only man I wanted to marry, and if I was lucky enough to have his children I wanted to be surprised," she turned her head to look at him with a sad smile. "I suppose, if you've ever doubted my love for you, those doubts are gone now?"

"Darling, I never have," he assured her immediately, holding her closer and wishing that the blank look would face from her eyes.

"But I married someone else."

"We do not always marry whom we love, Diana," sighed Richard. "I never doubted how much you loved me. I only wanted you to be happy. I thought you'd be happy without me. You know all this."

"I do," she squeezed his hand, the first movement of affection towards him she'd made since she had started speaking. "But we are happy now, as well."

"Of course, my love."

"But we would have been happier with him," she touched the drawing with their linked hands.

Richard did not speak, merely kissed the side of her head again and closed his eyes. What could he say? A little boy with his wife's hair and his own eyes; upon reflection, what he suspected was his mouth and Diana's nose, perhaps even her laugh and his mischievous smile… it was a beautiful dream, but it was a dream nonetheless.

"It would have been wonderful," he agreed quietly. Diana nodded in agreement. Richard turned her around in his arms, catching her eye. Her eyes were cold and bleak, but behind the pain he knew his wife was still there, and he would be damned if she thought for even a moment his love for her could change. "But you are enough for me. You will _always_ be enough for me, Diana, I promise."

"I believe you. I want nothing more than to be enough," the catch in her voice was difficult to ignore. She cleared her throat. "But I like to draw him. I know we will never have him, since it is not right for one person to get everything they've ever wanted in life," her free hand touched his face, and Richard was surprised when he felt her wipe away the wetness on his cheeks – when had he started to cry? "You are enough for me too," she whispered. "But I wish we had him as well."

Richard closed the distance between their mouths, holding her tight against him. The kiss was hard and passionate, full of love and longing, but not for each other. It was longing for a child they knew they would never have, and love they could give to no one except each other. And for now, that would suffice.

Richard pulled back softly, pressing short, sweet kisses to her wet cheeks and her closed eyelids. Diana's lips twitched at the gesture and she returned it, nibbling his jaw softly and letting out a breathless laugh when he growled playfully at her actions.

It was not until they were laying together in bed a few hours later, Diana's head tucked under his chin as they both looked at her drawing, that Richard spoke the words they both knew he had been thinking. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I wish we had him too."

* * *

 **Is anyone else crying...?**

 **I can't talk about this chapter, it's too emotional. I hope I did their feelings justice.**

 **Some wonderful reviews for the last chapter, thank you all for your kind words and well-wishes for my personal issues: moving is awful, but I think I MIGHT just get the hang of it. Thank you again, wonderful people:**

 **Anglocelt**

 **Gaskellian**

 **Jansfamily4**

 **Motherof8**

 **Deanna227**

 **HarnGin**

 **MissThang22700**

 **SeerPurple**

 **I will see you soon, let me know how you're feeling. Let's all cry together?**

 **Much love xxx**


	55. Chapter 55

**I've had trouble uploading this one, hope it works now!**

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"I feel as though you spend more time with my valet than with me," said Richard dryly, watching again as Diana hurriedly scribbled down something into the notebook that spent more time in her hands than on her bedside table now. They were in bed, and had been for a while, but Diana had barely sat down before she was ranting about how he had not prepared anything – words he was sure his valet had used in their last conversation – and now Diana ignored him and continued to write furiously, a permanent frown on her face. Richard sighed and rested a hand against her arm, halting her movements. "You need to sleep."

"You leave in less than two days and you have barely packed," said Diana, shrugging his arm off but nevertheless shifting so she could lean against his shoulder. "We really ought to have planned for your departure sooner."

"I leave for London in less than two days, not the continent," reminded Richard gently. "We will still have a week in town."

She stopped writing at that, and turned her head to look at him in confusion. "We?"

Richard blinked. "Did you think I was going to say goodbye to you in two days?"

She smiled, the stress seeming to vanish from her face. "A week feels like a luxury."

"I doubt it, my love. I will not be home much."

"What will you be doing?" asked Diana curiously, finally closing her notebook and replacing it on the table. She blew out the candle and nestled against his chest, enjoying the feeling of his arms around her.

"I will have to report to the London office every day and help where I can," said Richard. The deep rumble in his chest as he spoke soothed Diana. "I will likely be there from morning to evening. You will be frightfully bored without me."

"My life does not revolve around you as much as you'd think," teased Diana. "I am capable of entertaining myself while my husband works."

Richard snorted. "You ought to make a habit of it, once I return that will be the way things are."

Diana was silent for a moment. "Did you mean it, then, when you said you'd rather stay in London and work?"

"I do not want to leave the army altogether," confessed Richard. "I know you would prefer if I did, but my father has assured me he can find me a place here. It will not be strenuous work, but I will be helping the cause nevertheless. And I get to stay close to you."

"I do not mind if you stay in the army, as long as I know you're safe, darling."

"Then this seems like a good solution," she felt him kiss her hair. "And how are you feeling?"

"You can stop worrying about me, Richard."

"You've been sadder, since yesterday," he nuzzled her cheek affectionately. "I want you to be happy."

"You leave so soon, how can I be?"

"Because I am here now."

Despite herself, Diana smiled. "Very well, then. I will try to be happier that I have you for now."

"That is all I ask," he kissed her cheek. "And otherwise?"

"In general?" Diana shrugged. "Pemberley is lovely, but I miss home."

"What is home?" did she sense some hesitation in his voice?

"Matlock," she spoke without thinking. "Though I suppose the London house is home as well, isn't it? But I prefer the country."

Richard sighed. "You will hate living in London."

"But I will enjoy living with you."

Richard hummed in agreement. "I suppose you could start looking for a house, then, while I am gone. I do not think you want to live out of Fitzwilliam House forever."

"It is lovely, but I would like for us to have our own home, together," she played with his fingers. "I was going to put my house up for rent."

"That would be smart."

"I would have to get the lawyers' consent, of course. I do not know how to handle the details."

"I can write to them and we can go see them when we go to town."

"And I should –"

"Diana," Richard interrupted her gently. She stopped talking, letting out a huff. "Darling, is there really anything so important that it cannot wait until the morning?"

"Just one thing."

Richard sighed. "What is that?"

She turned around in his arms and kissed his lips, her hand coming to rest against his cheek as she pressed up against his chest. Richard responded automatically, pulling her on top of him and kissing her back just as eagerly. Despite her position, he gained control of the kiss easily, coaxing her to deepen it as he tangled his fingers into her loose hair – she had not tied it even once since their first night together.

As the kiss grew more heated, and his hands began to wander, he forced himself to pull back and catch his breath. As much as he wanted to let go and lose his careful control, Diana had not been sleeping well for a few nights, and he knew she needed to get some rest if she planned to get everything in order before they left for town. Reluctantly, he dragged his mouth away from hers, only to see the dazed expression he loved cross her face, and he faltered. He pressed another kiss to her jaw, moving down to her neck to suck on the delicate skin until he heard her slight gasp.

Smirking slightly, he pulled back and winked at her expression. "This is what could not wait until the morning?"

"No," her voice was breathy and slightly amused, yet hoarse and unbelievably attractive. His hands tightened around her hips, and he saw her lips twitch upwards into a smirk of her own. "You stopped before we could finish what we started."

"What _you_ started," he pointed out. His resolve was weakening by the second. Her small, soft hands were sliding down his chest, her arms wrapping around his waist to ensure he kept her close.

"What you _encouraged_ ," she murmured, angling her head up so she could kiss him again. He felt her nails dig into his back through his shirt and knew his control was gone. The soft growl was the only sound that he released for a while after that; his mouth was occupied elsewhere.

 **!**

The day of their departure arrived with no further incident. They were accompanied by Richard's valet, John and Sarah, and a few other servants. Lord and Lady Fitzwilliam, Emily, the children and Henry would return to Matlock a day later. However, the earl and Henry had decided to ride down to London a day before Richard's ship sailed, and Diana suspected Darcy would accompany them. Everyone else would say their goodbyes at Pemberley.

Diana had opted to stay in her room while Richard said goodbye to his family. Though he had seemed hesitant to leave her alone, she had smiled and softly encouraged him to go. His mother was a proud woman, but all stiffness failed in front of her favourite son, and Diana knew she deserved him all to herself in the few moments she would have to say goodbye. Also, Richard had been clear that he wanted no one to accompany him to town except Diana – his father had insisted on going in order to speak to the attorneys and "check the accounts", but Diana had not thought to ask what that meant. So, she sat quietly in her room and chatted with Sarah about nothing in particularly until a maid came to tell her that the carriage was ready to go.

Everyone was teary-eyed when she arrived in the sitting-room, but the worst had clearly passed. Diana sat down next to a quietly sobbing Georgiana, offering her whatever quiet comfort she could. She was surprised, however, when the girl threw her arms around her neck and cried into her shoulder. Automatically, Diana wrapped her arms around her and shushed her as she would a child, throwing a reassuring look at Elizabeth, who seemed alarmed by her sister-in-law's sudden despair.

Elizabeth herself was supporting bloodshot eyes, but she seemed to be the least distressed out of all the women. As if sensing Diana's observation, she smiled sadly and allowed Georgiana to shift onto her own shoulder. "Someone has to keep the rest of them sane," she said simply. Diana squeezed her hand.

After a whirlwind goodbye to everyone else – she would be returning to Matlock with her father-in-law and Henry after Richard's departure – Diana preceded her husband into the carriage and held his hand comfortingly as soon as he was seated next to her.

"They'll be alright," she soothed, though she was not sure how reassuring she could be.

Richard's face was carefully blank, but the answering pressure on her hand told her he was more upset than he was letting on. They did not speak for a while: Richard slept fitfully, his head against Diana's shoulder. He was too tall to lay down properly within the carriage, of course, and she pitied his uncomfortable position. She was relieved when the carriage stopped to change horses, and the footman knocked to ask if they would like to take a walk while he saw to the carriage.

They were stretching their legs a little way ahead of the carriage, content to walk in silence, until Richard spoke. "Did I mention we have to attend a dinner tomorrow night?" he asked absently.

"No, you did not," Diana threw him a reproachful look. "Where is it?"

"You haven't met them," to her surprise, he genuinely seemed excited. There was a glint in his eye she had not seen in a while when he spoke of social engagements. "Colonel and Mrs. Hart, retired now. Have I spoken of them to you?"

"Not that I can recall. Are they friends of yours?"

"The Colonel and I were on the continent together," Richard told her. "Timothy Hart married his sweetheart two weeks before he left and didn't come back until two years had passed. She was still there, waiting for him," he shook his head, smiling indulgently. "They are good people, couldn't care less if you were a pauper or a princess, it's all the same to them. Cecelia had a bit of money, her father is in trade so they have a decent house, servants, all that, though they aren't the usual upper-class type."

"You like them," smiled Diana. "And for that, I shall like them as well. You know I am not a snob, Richard."

"No, but I know your friends are."

"Friends?" Diana snorted. "You mean Rose? After she marries Bolton she will barely have time for me, so unless I spend my free afternoons at Windsor Castle she really couldn't care less."

Richard chuckled. "So, you will not be averse to meeting them? When they found out I was married, Cecelia sent a note fairly threatening me to bring you to see her."

Diana laughed. "Why have I never heard of them before?" she asked curiously. "You speak as though you like them very much."

At that moment, a servant from the inn ran ahead to tell them their carriage was ready. Richard waved him away, then turned his attention back to Diana as they began walking. "I do like them very much. I feel as though you may enjoy meeting them. Cecelia is charming, and Tim is a loveable crank."

Diana squeezed his hand. "They sound lovely," she said gently. "And I would never presume to cast judgement on your friends before even meeting them. You know that, of course?"

Richard smiled. "You are too good to do that, Diana."

"I would argue, but it is unbecoming for a wife to disagree with her husband," she winked as he chuckled. "Though that still does not tell me why I have never heard of them."

"To be honest, love, I did not have much time to think of anything. You keep a man's mind fairly occupied, you know."

Diana rolled her eyes. "Is that a compliment or an insult?"

"Which would be better?"

"Neither one, dear."

"Shall we pretend I never said anything?"

"Do let's."

* * *

 **Hi all! After the heartbreak we all went through last chapter, I knew we needed something lighter. This is filler-y and yet necessary, I've been dying to introduce this couple for quite a few chapters now since they will feature so heavily in the sequel *hint hint*. Anyway, thought I'd give a whole chapter to the journey, next one will be the dinner and then a few more until Richard leaves and then... Sequel time!**

 **Also, I am aiming to hit at least 500 reviews by the time this story ends. For the last chapter, the response was overwhelming, so while I do apologize for the pain you all experienced, I'm glad we're all in this together. Special thanks to the wonderful:**

 **tarlily**

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 **Your support is wonderful. Stay tuned for more. I have exams coming up so next chapter may be delayed, but never fear, I will be back soon. Much love xx**


	56. Chapter 56

"You seem anxious," Richard noted. He looked down at Diana, who was fiddling with her gloves. She gave him a dark look through the mirror, wincing slightly as Sarah tugged on a lock of her hair. He smiled indulgently. "You have no reason to be."

"Hush," she batted his hands away, which had been reaching for her cheek. "Must you always arrive and irritate me as I am getting ready?"

"You take too long, and I require entertainment."

Diana ignored him, catching Sarah's wrist just as she was about to fix a curl behind her ear. Sarah raised her eyebrows but did not speak. She obediently took a step back, bemusedly watching Diana pin her hair up in the same way she had been about to do. "I could have done that, mum."

"I know, I just feel better knowing I've done it myself," Diana grimaced. "Do I sound crazy?"

"Yes," said Richard, at the same time as Sarah shook her head smilingly. She rechecked Diana's hair once, then offered her the silk wrap and ushered them out of the room.

"You do not need to wait for us," Diana told her as they descended the stairs. "Just make sure John has the trunks separated and remind him that the gardener –"

"We've been through this, darling. You know what to do, Sarah," interrupted Richard smoothly. "We must be off."

"Enjoy your night, mum, sir," Sarah bobbed a curtsey, hiding a smile behind her hand. Diana opened her mouth to continue talking, but the footman had opened the door and Richard was escorting her out, one hand firmly resting on the small of her back.

"A house does not run itself, you know," said Diana huffily as he helped her into the carriage. Richard ignored her, sliding into the seat beside her and arranging the blankets around her legs to ensure she would not get cold on their journey. Some of her annoyance dissipated at his gesture, and she leaned her head against his arm when the carriage began to move, careful not to ruin her hairstyle.

Richard chuckled, his warm hand covering her gloved one. "Are you quite done being anxious, my love?"

"I have barely started," Diana nudged him at his teasing, but smiled nonetheless. "I am glad you are excited to leave the house and socialise, for once."

"The fact that we do not have to worry about them saying something upsetting is definitely something to look forward to," snorted Richard.

"Behave, dear."

"Those damned fools that my mother has told us to visit will be the death of me."

"Well, if you are going to be working all day we certainly won't be able to see all of them, will we?" Diana sounded amused. "We'd have to pick and choose."

"Preferably pick the ones that we can stand to listen to."

"That list is rather short, I'm afraid."

"We could just stay locked up in the house all day and not see _anyone_."

Diana laughed. "I would like nothing more," she tugged their linked hands up to press a kiss to his knuckles. "But we will do what is expected. I doubt most of those people want to see us anyway."

"Damned fools," muttered Richard, but his expression soon cleared as a glance out the window revealed that they were approaching their destination.

"Careful you don't smile too much, or I might think you don't enjoy my company," teased Diana.

Richard laughed. "I will take care to direct all my smiles towards you."

"See that you do."

The carriage stopped a few moments later, and Diana offered Richard a reassuring smile which he returned. He preceded her out of the carriage, offering her first his hand down and then his arm as they entered the modest-sized house on Harley Street. Lamps had been lit outside and there was a sturdy carpet laid out across the snow, which Diana was grateful for since it meant she would not have to get her shoes wet. There were two footmen waiting for them, and Diana was amused to see one of them respond to Richard's greeting and take his hat and coat in one fluid movement, as if he had done it many times before. The other footman was more subdued as he took her outerwear, but even he cracked a smile when Richard patted the other man on the arm and walked further into the house, practically dragging his wife by the hand.

"Richard!" it was a woman's voice. As they entered the brightly lit hall, a woman slightly older than Richard came into sight, descending the stairs and smiling brightly at the couple. Diana smiled back, slightly reserved. However, the woman took no notice, and when she had greeted Richard, she turned to her with a friendly smile. "And you must be Diana!"

Diana resisted her reflex, which was to raise her eyebrows, and merely kept smiling. Richard's hand rested against the small of her back reassuringly. "My wife, Mrs. Diana Fitzwilliam. My dear, this is Mrs. Cecelia Hart."

"I must insist you forgo all formalities and call me Cecelia at once," said Cecelia, speaking incredibly fast. "Do excuse my frankness," she did not sound sorry at all as she squeezed both of Diana's hands and kissed her on either cheek hurriedly – and it was a real kiss as well, not the air kisses that Diana was used to from the fashionable ladies of London. Without batting an eye, Mrs. Cecelia Hart began to drag Diana towards what she assumed was the parlour, barely pausing to breathe. Richard had already gone inside, his eyes laughing at his wife's confusion. "I would dearly love to start by calling you Mrs. Fitzwilliam, my dear, I've found young married women love that sort of thing, but we shall simply _have_ to become friends without all that because my husband has insisted that the men and women not be separated tonight so that we can _all_ get to know each other. Oh, he is a horrid, horrid man," she shuddered.

Diana balked at her description. "I beg your –"

"Oh, I am so sorry!" Cecelia sounded mortified. "I made him sound awful! Well, he _is_ awful, but that's just his way, you mustn't let him be awful to you." They entered the parlour and Cecelia released Diana's hand as if she had forgotten all about her, pouncing on Richard and the man he was currently shaking hands with. "Richard, you really must tell him to stop being such a bother, he will barely leave the house and you know how much I enjoy entertaining. Why, you are the first people we have seen since Christmas, and even then it was only Stanley and Robert, I cannot imagine –"

"My dear Cecelia, have you allowed the woman to say one word since she has entered the house?" a man whom Diana assumed was Colonel Hart gave his wife a look that clearly conveyed his exasperation. He dodged her neatly and approached Diana, a warm smile on his face. "Mrs. Fitzwilliam, it is a pleasure," Diana gave him her hand, and he kissed it, covering it with his other hand when he looked up. "We have heard wonderful things about you."

"Hopefully not from my husband," Diana's lips curved upwards in a smile as Richard came to her side, reaching for her other hand almost unconsciously. "He exaggerates."

"Oh, I am sure he was faithful to your true character," chuckled the Colonel. "As much as is possible for a man in love, anyway," he winked at Richard, who merely grunted. Diana giggled. Colonel Hart clapped his hands together. "Come, come, you must meet the others," he gestured to the rest of the occupants of the room that Diana had not noticed, two more men and a younger woman. "My sister, Miss Mary Hart," the blonde girl who did not look over eighteen smiled and curtseyed prettily, and Diana smiled back. "Our dearest friend, Dr. Stanley Lennox, and his brother, Mr. Robert Lennox, lately back from Oxford," he gestured in the general direction of the two men.

Diana smiled politely at them, but they merely bowed, one rather stiffer than the other. She could not tell the difference between the two: they both had dark hair and dark eyes, though one was slightly taller. She was saved from further conversation, however, when Richard's hand rested against her back again, steering her towards a chair next to Cecelia. He took the one on her other side, discreetly squeezing her hand but otherwise turning to talk to the men and leaving her on her own.

"Was your journey pleasant, dear?" asked Cecelia, fixing her skirts and giving Diana another one of her warm smiles.

"It was enjoyable," replied Diana, realizing with slight amusement that this was the first sentence she had been able to say to Cecelia since she had entered her home. "The weather was kind to us."

Cecelia looked pleased. "That is lovely. We were so concerned when Richard sent us word that he would be coming to Town, and I absolutely _had_ to insist the Colonel write to him and invite him to stay with us if he was alone. There is no point in living in a large, empty house so close to his departure, you know," she shook her head disapprovingly, and then her face brightened. "But then he said that you would be joining him, and I told the Colonel that, well, now that he's finally gotten married we simply _must_ host them, and it took convincing, my dear, but then of course Stanley was visiting that day and he backed me up and here we are!"

Diana laughed quietly. Miss Mary Hart, from her sister's other side, gently said a word about the dinner, which of course caused Cecelia to jump up and say she would be back in a second because _of course_ Cook was brilliant but she simply had to check and make sure everything was running smoothly. When she was gone, Mary smiled at Diana.

"I am sorry if she overwhelmed you, Mrs. Fitziwlliam," said Mary kindly.

Diana shook her head, immediately conscious that she had looked perplexed on more than one occasion when Cecelia had been speaking. "Oh, no, not at all. She is delightful."

Mary giggled. "She is," she agreed. "But Cecelia takes some getting used to."

"Aye, and I'm still not used to her," snorted the Colonel from next to Richard. Clearly, he had been listening to their conversation.

"Brother, you jest," Mary rolled her eyes and turned back to Diana. "You mustn't listen to him, Mrs. Fitzwilliam. He will spend the entire evening provoking her and making fun, but every time she so much as speaks of going to visit her parents in Kent, he throws a tantrum until she delays her trip."

Diana laughed. "Men enjoy the company of their wives only when not asked to make it clear that they do."

Mary's eyes twinkled with laughter. "An excellent observation."

"I resent that," cut in Richard. Diana glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. He raised his own. "I have never complained about your company, have I?"

"Yes, dear, but you never appreciate it unless I leave."

Mary laughed outright at that, and one of the Lennox brothers chortled while the other merely smiled. Richard rolled his eyes at her comment, but the Colonel guffawed openly. "I like you, Mrs. Fitzwilliam," he grinned toothily at her. "Someone needs to keep this scoundrel on his toes."

Diana patted her husband's arm. "I like to think I've reformed him, Colonel."

"Aye, we'll have to see about that. Maybe when he stops trying to cheat at cards. Richard, when are you bringing this lovely lady to see us in Newcastle?"

By the time Cecelia returned, Diana had finally found her footing enough to be confident in her topics of conversation, and was glad to see that Cecelia was actually an admirable listener. Clearly, she had only been talking uncontrollably to fill the silence and ensure Diana did not get uncomfortable. Within the hour, Diana had come to the conclusion that both Hart women were delightful, the Colonel possessed a sense of humour that rivalled even Richard's, and _one_ of the Lennox brothers was an excellent conversationalist. The other one, however, refrained from saying more than a few words in the same sentence and seemed more interested in his shoes than anything else. He spoke to no one exclusively except Cecelia, but indeed it was hard _not_ to speak to her.

"You are doing a very brave thing, my dear," said Cecelia quietly, when there was a steady hum of voices and Diana had just taken a sip of the drink Richard had offered her. Confused, she looked at the other woman curiously, who merely smiled. "Letting him go is not easy for you. I should know, I did it myself and with a far worse grace at that."

Diana put her glass back down on the table carefully, aware of the slight tremble in her hands. She fiddled with her gloves for a moment before catching Cecelia's eye, already making up her mind about what she was going to say. However, the words that came out of her mouth were very different to the ones she had been thinking. "How did you do it?"

The question did not seem to surprise Cecelia at all. Smiling kindly, she rested a comforting hand on top of Diana's fidgeting ones. "I kept telling myself, "If he says he will come back to you, he will." And he did," her eyes softened as they drifted to the Colonel. He was oblivious to his wife's look. She turned her gaze back to Diana. "Even if you cannot believe it, you must force yourself to."

"But what if –"

"None of that," interrupted Cecelia firmly. "There is no _what if._ Should he not return, it is something you will have to deal with regardless of how much you've thought about it. Worrying will not help."

Diana inclined her head in understanding, but said nothing more. Cecelia gave her one last smile, and then Mary interjected with a question about Diana's dress, which she was happy to discuss. Once in a while, when she was smiling or silent for too long as she listened to the other women, she often became conscious of being watched. At the start, she chalked it up to her husband's anxiety to ensure she was comfortable; a while later, however, she discovered it was in fact Dr. Lennox who was staring at her, an expression of surpise on his face. When Diana caught him, however, he immediately looked away, clearly embarrassed. When dinner was announced, she found herself seated next to him, and after a few seconds of polite conversation she was slightly bemused to discover his problem with her.

"Do you practice in town, Doctor?" asked Diana pleasantly. His slightly aloof responses and distance from her – though he got along with Richard just fine – told her exactly what she needed to know. He had clearly assumed that her money and her standing in society meant she would be unwilling to converse with a lowly doctor, and Diana was both amused and slightly offended by his judgement of her. She would have to make the young man suffer just a little for assuming she would be too snobbish to converse with him.

"Yes," he answered shortly. However, even to his own ears Diana was sure he sounded rude. He cleared his throat. "I work with Dr. Burns, perhaps you have heard of him."

"Indeed, I have," Diana smiled. "He was my mother's doctor when she resided in town, and I suppose he is mine as well. I have been fortunate enough not to have need of him recently. How is he?"

"Quite well. Did you say your mother was his patient?" asked Dr. Lennox curiously.

"Yes. Mrs. Wilhemina Harris?"

"Oh," Diana was surprised that his entire body seemed to stiffen at that. "Yes, I have had the pleasure of meeting her."

"I do hope she was not a bother, mother is forever fancying herself ill," said Diana. She surveyed him curiously; had her mother offended the young man in any way?

If Mina _had_ made a bad impression, he was not giving anything away. Dr. Lennox merely smiled tightly and shook his head, devoting all his attention to his food from that moment on. Diana's attention was soon caught by the Colonel, who was seated on her right. He enquired, politely, if she had any plans for after her husband's departure.

"The earl and viscount will travel to London to see Richard off, and then I suppose I shall return to Matlock with them," said Diana. "Truthfully, I have not considered what else I might do."

"Well, I hope we can convince you to come see us at Newcastle before the season begins," said the Colonel. "We would love the company, and I much prefer entertaining in the country than in town."

Diana smiled. "Do you dislike London, Colonel?"

Colonel Hart snorted. "Can anyone really _like_ London if they have the country to retire to?"

Diana laughed. "I am not fond of it myself," she admitted. "But I do enjoy it when the company is good."

"Well, then, child, you will just have to come and see us often to convince me otherwise. And I'll tell you now, my dear," he lowered his voice, eyes twinkling merrily. "I am glad he finally did something useful and married you. He'd drive us all crazy if we ever mentioned a pretty woman he ought to meet, staring at your picture and refusing to say a word about who you were and what happened. It used to drive Cecelia mad."

Diana felt herself blush and busied herself with her plate. Next to her, Colonel Hart laughed, while across from her Cecelia asked what was so amusing.

"I've just been trying to convince Mrs. Fitzwilliam to come and stay with us in Newcastle," replied the Colonel, with an ease that reminded Diana of Richard.

"Oh, you really must!" exclaimed Cecelia, and the rest of the dinner was spent in her enthusiastically relating all the charms the country had to offer, with Richard as her only amused audience since everyone else had decided to return to their meal.

The men and women did not separate after dinner, since their party was small and the Colonel was insistent that his wife would not let Mrs. Fitzwilliam get a word in edgewise if he was not there to control there. Diana was surprised at the ease with which the couple joked. Even in other homes when the marriage was based on affection, she had hardly ever seen such comfort. Richard and she were the same, but only in private, and Darcy and Elizabeth would never be so open unless they were surrounded by family. Cecelia and the Colonel did not seem to care who saw them argue, fight or hold hands – then again, she was sure in their current company nobody would raise an eyebrow at their actions.

It was oddly liberating, being with people who knew next to nothing about her. Diana's previous marriage and, indeed, her father's death meant that everyone had always known something about her before she had had a chance to have a conversation with them. Due to the clear difference in their social circles, however, the Harts knew nothing and were anxious to make her comfortable, sticking to safe subjects and teasing everyone in the room with a familiarity Diana had never seen before. No wonder Richard enjoyed their company so much. There was no hiding or pretending.

Dr. Lennox, however, remained a mystery, and now it was starting to irk her. She had been nothing but polite to him and to her hosts, and yet every time he caught her eye or even looked in her direction an odd expression came over his face and he would quickly look down at his shoes, as if to avoid having to speak to her.

"You are frowning," Richard nudged her elbow gently, breaking her out of her reverie and taking the cup of coffee from her hands. Cecelia, the Colonel, Dr. Lennox and his brother had sat down to cards, but Diana had opted out and sat with Mary instead, who had just left the room to fetch something for her brother. Richard had wandered away from the book he had been perusing and sat in her empty seat, noting the absent look in her eyes. "What is it?"

"Was I? I must be tired," Diana fixed a brilliant smile onto her face and squeezed his hand. She had seen him speak to the doctor – they were clearly friends, and she did not want to strain his relationship with people he had known for years. If Dr. Lennox wanted to think she was a snob, she would just have to show him she was not and ignore his odd looks until then.

"Would you like to leave?" Richard looked concerned. "It is getting late, I hadn't thought –"

"We can go when you feel like going," assured Diana immediately. "I see no need to rush."

Richard looked relieved. "So, you approve?"

Diana smiled. "Your friends are nicer than mine, I will give you that."

Richard chuckled. "And they adore you. Though, I must say it would be hard not to."

"I did say I'd be on my best behaviour."

"The Colonel would have liked you even if you had tracked mud into the foyer simply because it would have annoyed Cecelia, I assure you."

Diana giggled. "They are really quite an interesting couple," she admitted.

"They do not see the need to pretend they do not care about each other in public," Richard shrugged. "Of course, it helps that they rarely go out. A few trips to the theatre and Almacks is all Timothy will agree to, and Cecelia has her own friends and family she would rather visit. The most they went out was last year for Mary's coming-out, but I doubt they will do the same this time."

"Why is that?"

"I think young Lennox has his eye on her," Richard smiled and indicated the younger man, who was chatting with the Colonel easily. "It would not be a bad match at all – he has been called to the Bar, and he has some money from an old aunt or someone. And Mary is a good girl."

"Do you think she likes him?" asked Diana curiously.

"I think so," nodded Richard, then he grinned. "I ought to tell Robert to avoid proposing until I come back. Seeing Timothy dance at a wedding is always fun."

Diana laughed. Discreetly, Richard pressed a kiss to her hand, then vacated Mary's seat just as she returned to the room, her brother's eye-glasses in hand. Diana watched her cross the room to the Colonel's side, and as the older man checked to make sure she had brought the right ones, Diana was sure she saw Mary glance at Robert Lennox shyly. His responding smile was all she needed to see, and she hid a grin behind her coffee cup.

 **!**

"Well, I would call that a success," said Cecelia triumphantly. Letting out a sigh, she collapsed onto the sofa in front of the fire and threw Stanley a look. "Though you _could_ have talked more, Stanley. Diana is such a nice girl, and we have all missed Richard so."

"Mrs. Fitzwilliam is very kind," agreed Stanley, rather stiffly. "She appears to make Richard very happy."

"I should think so," huffed Cecelia. She looked around the room. "Did Timothy already go up?"

"Couldn't get away fast enough," Stanley cracked a smile. "I will leave you now, I think. It is very late."

"Wait a minute," Cecelia held up a hand and indicated for him to sit, a perceptive look in her eye that told Stanley he was in trouble. "What made you act so odd tonight, Stanley? I did not think you would hold Diana's wealth against her. Richard _is_ the son of an earl, after all."

"Younger son," corrected Stanley automatically. However, his expression softened. "It was nothing Mrs. Fitzwilliam did, Cecelia. Something she said was merely very odd."

"What was it, then?"

"She said her mother, Mrs. Harris, is a patient of Dr. Burns –"

"And so is half of London," snorted Cecelia. "Can you hold it against her?"

"That is not what I meant," persisted Stanley. "Only that, by reputation, I would say her mother is not the pleasantest person, and furthermore –"

"Hush, now," Cecelia shook her head. "We do not act like the _ton_ in these matters, Stanley, you know that. Her mother could be a vulture or she could be a saint, it makes no difference to me. Diana is a lovely girl, and for Richard's sake we will all like her, if not for her own. And as for you," Cecelia fixed him with a look. "Next time we meet them, I expect you to make more of an effort with her. She will soon be left alone, and she needs friends."

Stanley looked like he wanted to say more, but let out a sigh. There was no point in arguing with Cecelia – he had known her for years, had been next to her future husband when they had been introduced, and the couple had taken him under their wing when he had come to work under Dr. Burns as a doctor for London's richest and finest. It would do him no good to upset them, he decided, as he took his leave and departed the house. Robert had already gone to their shared apartments, after spending a decent amount of time making eyes at young Mary Hart. Making a mental note to tell his brother to write to their mother if he intended to propose soon, he climbed into Timothy's carriage and allowed it to carry him home, all the while puzzling over the matter of Diana Fitzwilliam, her mother, and Dr. Burns.

* * *

 **A nice long chapter to make up for the wait! I have to say, this was so much fun. I've been dying to write it, and while I wanted to spend more time building a relationship between all the characters, I've realized that's what sequels are for! Also, the Dr. Burns mystery is one for the next story, it won't be solved yet but keep it in mind.**

 **This story is coming to an end now - there will be some angst, some romance, some fun, and then the fateful goodbye scene which I still haven't written, but I assure you I plan to make us all weep.**

 **Thank you to my wonderful reviewers, I know the last chapter was very filler-y but I hope this one was worth the wait:**

 **thpeaky**

 **Deanna27**

 **Motherof8**

 **javaaddict1**

 **GracefulKlutz1983**

 **The site has been weird about posting the past couple of weeks, so I hope it's gotten better now. Until next time, much love xxx**


	57. Chapter 57

"London is terrible," moaned Diana.

Richard glanced over his shoulder at his wife, who was hunched over the desk in their bedroom as she attempted to go over their correspondence from the last two days when they had not been home to visitors. Dismissing his valet quickly, he crossed the room towards her. Her head was resting on her folded arms as she glared at a stack of letters moodily. Richard smiled and tugged on a lock of her hair – she had not done it up yet. "What has London done now, love?"

"Nothing good," grumbled Diana. She looked up and rolled her eyes at his state of dress. "You dismissed him before he could do your cravat."

"I was hoping you'd do it."

"Of course you were," Diana got up and, though she acted like it was a chore, Richard knew she did not mind helping him in the slightest. She sewed buttons, mended trousers and she had even taken over the packing of his trunk for his departure; his wife _enjoyed_ the domesticity their marriage brought. She simply enjoyed giving him a hard time more, which he found amusing.

"Tell me about London," said Richard, holding her steady by her elbows as she stood on her toes to knot the cravat properly.

Diana sighed. "My mother writes that she would like an explanation as to why she no longer has access to the estate's accounts, my solicitor says he is free to meet with us by the end of the week, Rose has invited us to dinner tomorrow and your Aunt Ellen left her card while we were out last night at the Harts'," Diana finished her task and glared at the stack of letters lying on her desk Richard chuckled, kissing her forehead. Diana rested her head against his chest moodily. "There is also a letter from mamma, but I have not opened it."

"Saving the worst for last?" teased Richard.

Diana sighed. "Nothing can be worse," she made a face and left his embrace reluctantly. She slit open the envelope with an opener – one he realized she had taken off his desk from Matlock – scanning the contents. "Let me see… Instructions for Charlotte's winter wardrobe that I need to bring back, one of the maids needs to be dismissed and… oh," she looked surprised.

"What is it?"

Diana shook her head. "Nothing awful," she assured him quickly. "Henry and Emily have decided to spend their anniversary together on holiday, and mamma was wondering if I wouldn't mind delaying my trip to Devon so I can be home to help her with the children."

Richard frowned. "Where are they going?" without waiting for an answer, he took the letter from Diana's hands, reading through it quickly. "This is right in the middle of the season. I thought you wanted to go to Devon then, to avoid London for a bit?"

"I did, but that's no matter," Diana waved away his concern. "I can always go earlier, or even later."

Richard still looked annoyed. "I don't see why you have to –"

"Hush," she plucked the letter from his grasp and lay it on the desk on the pile of notes she still had to answer. She handed him his aunt's card. "Shall we consider what we are going to do about this instead?"

Richard snorted. "We are not going to visit her."

" _We_ do not have to," Diana shrugged. "But you ought to go."

Richard groaned. "Diana, please, we have discussed this."

"She is your aunt and she loves you," without waiting for a response, Diana turned back to the letter from her mother. "You will go and visit her tomorrow, and then join me at Rose's for dinner."

Richard's voice was firm when he spoke. "I am not going after what she said to you."

"Her stopping by while we were out is not about me, darling, it is about you," Diana did not look up from the letter she was composing to Mina. "You are going away, and I am sure she wants to see you before you leave. Besides, it would be rude to ignore her now; she has already left a card."

Her nonchalance was annoying him. "Damn all politeness, Diana, I am _not_ going."

"Really?" Diana turned to face him, raising an eyebrow at his expression. "And what would you have the rest of London say when you are gone? That I manipulated you into breaking your aunt's heart just because she had the courage to say what every other matron in the city is thinking?"

Richard narrowed his eyes. "That isn't fair."

Diana's eyes softened. "I know you don't want to go," she squeezed his hand. " _I_ don't want you to go either, I would much rather spend the extra hour with you, believe me. But we do need to be careful, and this is what must be done. If you are very reluctant, I could accompany you, but I –"

"No," he shook his head immediately. "I don't trust her to keep her opinions to herself anymore. I will go tomorrow, as you say. Perhaps the excuse of dinner will allow me to keep my visit short."

"I insist on it," Diana smiled, and kissed the hand that she was still holding. "You are going to be late, you have to meet the corporal in one hour."

"And what will you do all day?"

"Answer letters, read a book, play the pianoforte," Diana shrugged. "I have no definite plans. When will you be back?"

"In time for dinner," he kissed her briefly. "You might expect a visit from Cecelia. You made quite an impression."

Diana smiled. "I will look forward to it. Goodbye now."

"Until tonight," another kiss, and he was gone.

 **!**

"What a lovely room! Did you do it up?"

Diana snorted. "Heavens, no," she tucked a curl behind her ear and waved a footman forward to pour tea. It was John, and his expression told her he was trying very hard not to laugh. "I haven't been married long enough to pick out my own trousseau."

Cecelia concealed a laugh behind her biscuit, but Mary Hart giggled openly at Diana's comment. Stony-faced, John poured out tea, inquired politely if the ladies needed anything else and, upon being dismissed, exited the room quietly.

As soon as he left, Cecelia chuckled. "Oh, you _are_ sly. The poor man could not wait to leave us."

"John has been with me since – well, for many years," Diana amended her statement smoothly, deciding that there was no need to bring up her previous marriage in front of women who were, she decided, exceedingly kind to her mostly because of whose wife she was. "He is used to my ways. Cake?"

"Thank you," Cecelia took a piece. "And have you decided what to do with yourself while Richard is gone?"

"I haven't the slightest idea," Diana sighed. "What do you recommend?"

"Learn an instrument," advised Mary. "Cecelia and I took up the harp when my brother first left. We were both quite good by the time he returned."

"Richard won't be gone for nearly that long," Cecelia dismissed the idea immediately, and her conviction made Diana smile affectionately at her. "Painting, perhaps?"

"I already draw quite a bit."

"Ah, yes, of course," Cecelia nodded thoughtfully. "You sing as well, do you not? I recall him mentioning it."

Diana raised her eyebrows. "I was not aware he had spoken of me at all."

Cecelia snorted in a very un-ladylike manner. "My dear, a man can only talk about the handsomest lady of his acquaintance, the most gifted performer, _and_ the loveliest artist he has ever known before one gathers that he is referring to the same woman, and undoubtedly one he is in love with."

"And he went on for years," added Mary matter-of-factly. "We'd have written it off if he stopped after the first time, but he never would. Cecelia thought he was going insane for a while."

Diana was dumbfounded. Richard had talked about her, so casually, to his friends? And that too, for _years?_ His actions, nay, his own words had led her to believe he had attempted to push her from his memory completely. She herself had done nothing of the sort, of course; Charles Herbert had been aware of Richard Fitzwilliam's existence from the first day of their marriage, and the memories were not ones he begrudged his wife. Diana tried not to sigh at the thought. Charles had been a good man, and he had not deserved a wife incapable of loving him.

"What do you think, Diana?" Cecelia's voice drew her out of her solemn thoughts, and she attempted to revive her spirits for her guests.

"Pardon?"

"Would you like to join the music club my cousin hosts every week at our home?" something in her tone told Diana she was expecting a refusal.

"The women play and sing, and we sometimes have composers and singers drop by as well," added Mary, giving her sister-in-law a look that clearly stated she was surprised at the lack of enthusiasm she had shown. "It is not a very large group, and not the most fashionable, but most of them have known us and Richard for years. It would keep your mind off things, at least for one evening of the week."

"It sounds lovely," Diana smiled, careful not to show a hint of confusion at the suggestion. She knew exactly why Cecelia had expected a refusal, of course, but she was reminded, almost painfully, of Dr. Lennox's treatment of her at the Hart's residence. She would not allow any of the people in Richard's social circle, friend or otherwise, to think she considered herself too superior to mingle with them. "I have not performed in front of a large crowd in so long, it will be nice to begin afresh in a more intimate setting."

Cecelia smiled at her warmly. They chatted for a few moments, and just as Diana had managed to coax Mary into performing a song for them on the harp, there was a harsh knock at the door. Diana had barely called out an answer before Richard entered the room.

He did a noticeable double-take when he saw that his wife had company. "Forgive me," he bowed stiffly. "I did not know you were entertaining."

Diana merely smiled in response, but her eyes took in her husband's dishevelled appearance, from his slightly untidy hair down to his heavy breathing. He was also holding himself all wrong, favouring his right side. He kept his gaze down even as he greeted Cecelia and Mary and, though his tone was polite, his voice was gruff and short, as if he wanted them both gone.

There was an awkward silence for a moment, but Cecelia had clearly picked up on a tension that Diana had yet to discover the cause of. "Well, look at the time!" she glanced at the clock and stood up, dusting crumbs off her dress and beckoning to Mary. "My dear, I completely forgot we had to stop by the milliner's. Won't you excuse us?" without waiting for a response, she kissed Diana's cheeks and grabbed Mary's hand, practically dragging the confused girl from the room. "Goodbye, Richard, dear!" she called out, and they were gone.

Diana gave him a look when the door closed. "What was that?"

"What?" still gruff, Richard made his way towards the glass table set with drinks for evening guests. Diana could not remember the last time anyone had touched that tray so early in the morning.

She huffed and folded her arms across her chest. "You were rude to them, Richard. You knew they'd be here at this time. And you said you'd be back for dinner!"

"Is it a crime to come home early?" he turned around to face her, a rather stiff drink in his hand.

"No, of course not," Diana reigned in her temper and offered him a small smile. "I am sorry. That was unfair. Are you alright?" she eyed the glass warily.

"Fine," he answered shortly. Without returning her smile, he sat down on the armchair furthest from her, his gaze set on the crackling fire in the hearth. It was then that Diana realized his hand was wrapped in a red-stained bandage.

"What on earth is that?" without waiting for an answer, she sprang up and made him put down the glass so she could examine his hand. Though he groaned in annoyance, Richard held still as she undid the haphazard wrapping and saw what was underneath. Her eyes widened. "You hit someone? Richard!"

"I did not hit anyone."

"But you're hurt," she sounded angry and slightly horrified, but her cool hands were gentle as they caressed his bruised knuckles, soothing the dull ache. Without waiting for a response, Diana dipped her handkerchief into the jug of water on the table next to them and began to clean the dried blood, kneeling by the chair he sat in. Richard tried to tug his hand away, but she held fast. "Don't," she chastised.

"You'll get blood on that," he said, voice monotone.

"I can wash it," Diana gave him a wan smile. "What happened? If you didn't hit anyone, why is your hand so battered?"

"I punched a wall," was the bitter reply.

Diana's hands paused in their task, before continuing again. "Did you?" she was fighting to keep her voice casual, he could tell easily even though her head was down. "Was there a reason for that?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes. You're clearly angry."

"No, I am not."

"Yes, you are."

"Don't do this, Diana."

"Do what?" Diana looked up at him incredulously. "You come home hours earlier than you said you would in a bad mood, you dismiss my guests with no form of tact, you have _literal_ blood on your hands, and then you –"

Richard interrupted her. "I did not come home for an interrogation," he finished his drink in one and stood up to pour himself another, successfully managing to wrench his hand out of her grip.

His tone was offensive at the very least, but Diana attempted to keep her voice controlled. "It's not an interrogation, I merely want to know why you're upset."

"I'm _not_."

"You think I don't know when you're in a mood?"

Richard sat back down, but did not offer his wife his hand. His face remained stormy. "Clearly you know my moods better than I do, then."

"Why are you being snappy with me?" asked Diana exasperatedly. "I haven't seen you for hours, what did I even _do_?"

" _Nothing_!" his tone was so full of annoyance that Diana bit back the retort she wanted to throw out, instead merely turning her eyes away. Richard made a sound of frustration and stood up, his abrupt move knocking over the table next to his chair and causing the glass, jug and an ornament on it to fall to the ground with a sharp _crack_. Diana stood up hastily to avoid the shards of glass and spillage, but Richard did not pause in his stomp towards the door.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" she spat out, crouching down to inspect the damage. Gingerly, she began to pick up the shards of glass. Instead of a reply, the sharp _click_ of the door closing startled her. Diana looked around, but a silent room was her only companion.

 **!**

"– And then he stormed out without another word!"

"Men will be men, dear."

"Are all men this temperamental?"

"More," Rose smiled grimly. "Richard sounds as though he merely had a bad day, he probably got into a skirmish with another officer at the base. You know how soldiers can ge."

"They're supposed to fight _together_ , not _each other_ ," huffed Diana, sinking back into her chair moodily. Richard had left hours ago; Rose had arrived not long after, just in time to get the full-force of Diana's annoyance with her husband. She had found it amusing for the first few minutes, but now after almost an hour of her speaking, Rose was getting tired.

"They fight when they like. There is no reasoning to it," Rose shrugged. "Have you decided what you will wear tomorrow?"

"Blue silk," Diana flicked a loose strand of hair out of her eyes dismissively.

Rose was persistent. "Is it new?"

"Yes, Rose, I would never insult one of your soirees by wearing an old dress," Diana rolled her eyes. "I will even wear that lace shawl you so adore showing off."

"Well, I _did_ buy it for you so you would wear it," defended Rose, even as she smiled in delight. "It will be such fun, dear. Speaking of which, you never did tell me why you were unavailable yesterday."

"We were dining with Richard's friends, a Colonel Hart and his family."

"Hart?" Rose tapped her chin thoughtfully. "I can't think of anyone by that name. Would I know them?"

Diana resisted the urge to smile. "I do not think so, dear. There were also a Dr. and Mr. Lennox present."

"A _doctor_?" Rose sounded scandalized. "You dined with a _doctor?!"_

"And a lawyer," added Diana, her lips twitching at her friend's genuine look of shock. "Oh, don't look so surprised. I _did_ marry a military man."

"You married the son of an earl!"

"Who just so happens to be a soldier."

"But –"

"You haven't even heard the best part yet."

"There's _more_?" Rose did not sound as though she could take much more.

Diana pretended to fiddle with her dress. "Yes, Dr. Lennox works with Dr. Burns, handling his patients and such. You know Burns, don't you, dear?"

 _"Burns?"_ Rose almost shrieked the name. " _My mother's doctor?"_

"And mine," reminded Diana.

 _"You dined with our doctor's apprentice?!"_

"I don't know about _apprentice_ , I am sure he is a fully qualified doctor in his own right."

"Diana!"

"Yes?"

"You are _impossible_."

"So I've heard, dear. Come now, I am sure I will enjoy your dinner just as much, if not more."

Rose looked offended at the thought of the two evenings being comparable, and the ruffle in her feathers improved Diana's mood significantly. It was always enjoyable to tease Rose. The girl was so caught up in her London drawing-room life that she had never even stopped to consider the implications of her closest friend marrying a military man whose social circle would not necessarily be that of his brother and father. The fact amused Diana greatly.

Rose took her leave soon after, the look in her eye telling Diana that she probably planned to increase the extravagance for the next evening. Sufficiently amused, Diana sat downstairs until she was sure she would get no more callers, then retired upstairs to her bedroom. She had received a note from Richard via a messenger saying that he would not be home for dinner, so she had a small meal brought up to her, chatted amicably with Sarah for an hour afterwards, and dutifully penned letters to her mother and mother-in-law as night set in. It was not until she was done that she realized she had unconsciously been delaying herself going to bed, hoping to see her husband before she fell asleep. He still had not come.

And he did not come until several hours later, when Diana had just managed to fall into a restless slumber. She felt him kiss her forehead and lay down next to her without a word, though he could not have failed to notice that she would have woken easily had he tried. When Diana chanced to open her eyes once his breathing had steadied, she saw that there was a fresh bandage on his hand.

* * *

 **The mystery continues! I plan to have this story finished before we hot 65 chapters, and the sequel should be up soon after. Can't say more yet, except stay tuned: the angst is about to hit us full force next time.**

 **Many thanks to the ever-loyal:**

 **Deanna27**

 **Gaskellian**

 **Motherof8**

 **Jansfamily4**

 **thpeaky**

 **I'm so excited, this will be my first complete fic and I couldn't have done it without all of you, the support has truly been phenomenal. Much love xxx**


	58. Chapter 58

Major General Richard Fitzwilliam was an idiot.

He was an absolute imbecile who seemed to enjoy making his own life harder than it needed to be.

Even as he trudged home through the rain, he knew he would have to beg for his wife's forgiveness after his outburst yesterday. That, combined with the fact that he had stolen out of the house at the crack of dawn before she had even awoken was bound to get him into more trouble. Perhaps that was why he had dismissed his carriage and opted to walk. Even a casual stroll so late in December amidst a downpour was a death wish. Self-inflicted punishment to ease his guilt, perhaps? So far, it had not helped.

The servant who let him into the house seemed concerned at his appearance, soaking wet as he was. Richard debated changing and then going to see his wife for only a moment before he decided it could not wait. Besides, the chances of her pitying him were significantly higher if she saw him like this. Then again, he doubted she would be angry for very long once she heard why he had acted the way he had the previous evening. He was about to go upstairs when he noticed the light under the door of the sitting-room. It was early afternoon, a time when Diana usually rested in their bedroom unless they had visitors. Why was she downstairs? Brushing away the servant who came forward to announce him, he opened the door quietly and slipped in.

Diana was laying on her side on the divan by the fire, her bare feet poking out from beneath the hem of her dress. She was reading a book, one hand holding it steady in front of her while the other played with her hair, which was loose down her back. Richard remembered hearing his mother often say that the only time Diana ever let herself go was if she was in her own home where she was comfortable. Then, and only then, she would abandon her intricate hairstyles, accessories and often her shoes as well. The fact that she was comfortable enough to do so in _his_ home, that she considered it _their_ home now, caused Richard to swallow thickly.

He really was a fool.

Diana did not look up from her book as he approached her warily. She merely turned a page, her eyes scanning the words at a leisurely pace. It did not escape his notice that her shoulders had tensed. Clearly, she had been waiting for him downstairs. Richard sank down onto the floor by her head, resting his back against the leg of the seat. Diana still did not react.

"I owe you an apology," he said quietly. He did not expect a response. She would not speak until he had said everything he needed to say and explained himself to her satisfaction, he knew that. "You did not deserve my anger yesterday, and it was not aimed at you. And I know you were worried when I did not return until late last night. And when I left early this morning," he winced at the list of his transgressions, but did not turn to look at her. "It was not my intention for us to spend so much time apart whilst we were in London, I assure you."

Still, Diana did not speak. The room was warm, but there was a chill in the air. Richard was soaked to the bone, yet he knew it had nothing to do with that. He might as well have changed before speaking to her, for all the good it was doing.

"I'm not very good at this, Diana," he said finally. His eyes rested upon the table he had knocked over the previous evening in his rush to leave. There was a different ornament on it now, and a different jug of water. The table itself had not been damaged. It was as if it had never happened. "You know as well as I do that my own faults are not something I can easily take responsibility for. I made you a promise when we married, and I broke it yesterday when I did not tell you what had happened. But you must understand," he had to pause then, to take a deep breath. "I _wanted_ to. I came home at that hour because I had to see you, but seeing you did not make it easy like I had hoped. It made me feel worse."

He almost wanted her to speak then, or give him some sort of signal that she was listening and sympathetic. She did not, however he could no longer hear pages turning, even though her book was open. So, at least she was listening.

 _Now or never._ Richard sucked in a breath. "We had received word earlier in the day of Crooke's death," as he spoke, he could feel her body stiffen behind him, and he knew the pieces were falling into place in her mind. His shoulders sagged. "There was an attack on their camp. Unplanned, unprecedented. _Unpredictable_ , the letter said. He took down four before they shot him. They are saying it was painless, of course. I do not expect them to tell us the truth, but I did think –" he stopped abruptly when he felt her touch his hair, her fingers combing through the wet strands comfortingly though she still did not speak. Deciding to risk it, he reached back with his hand and almost sighed in relief when her other hand slipped into his. He forced himself to continue speaking. "I said I would accompany the men going to his home. I knew he had a mother, I have met her before and I thought seeing a familiar face would help her," again, he was forced to pause and take a deep breath. "Diana, he had a wife, and two children. They'd barely been married five years. Mrs. Crooke had to call in two servants to help her out of the room once she'd heard the news."

Diana did not speak, but the continuous movement of her fingers through his hair was soothing. Richard remembered the pain on Laura Crooke's face vividly as he had delivered the news in the gentlest way he could. She was a pretty thing, younger than Diana, with Georgiana's colouring and Emily's gentle smile. He had done a double-take when he'd seen her, completely caught off guard with the news that Crooke had a family. Mrs. Crooke had told him the story when the newly-widowed Laura had excused herself from the room. Crooke hadn't wanted to get married, fearing that his death would leave his wife and children destitute, but Laura had had money of her own and a stubborn streak. They had married at her insistence, but had barely seen each other for a year.

Richard felt something warm touch his arm, jerking him from his memories. Diana had gotten up from the divan and was curled up against his side, her head resting against his shoulder as she held both his hands between her own. He tried to utter a protest that she was getting her clothes wet, but he was ignored. The clear blue eyes that he often suspected would be the death of him were looking at him closely, as if they could read every secret he had ever kept from her. Richard had no doubt that they could. However, she did not voice any of her observations. Instead, she caressed his cheek when the back of her hand. "You're freezing," she murmured. "Come upstairs and change."

He knew better than to argue. They left the room quietly, and upstairs Diana helped him remove his wet clothes and found dry ones to replace them, all the while not saying a word. Richard would have thought she was still angry, but her hands were gentle, and he barely had to do anything except stand still and move when instructed. She would have slapped him by now if she was still furious.

She did not speak until he was seated by the fire in an armchair and she had rung and asked Sarah to bring him a cup of coffee, her voice so quiet he had barely heard her. As the door clicked shut, he felt her caress his hair again, coming to stand in front of him with a strange look in her eyes. Richard braced himself, anticipating the first harsh word.

It never came. Instead, to his surprise, she gathered her skirts and seated herself on his lap, their faces only inches apart.

Automatically, Richard grasped her hips to hold her steady. Despite himself, he raised an eyebrow at her. Diana did not respond to his teasing. She carefully brushed away a lock of his hair from his forehead. "I'm not her, you know," she said quietly. "Crooke's wife," she added at his confused look. "I know what you saw when you went to her. You saw me, and you saw what it would do to me if something happened to you."

Richard winced. "I will admit that it crossed my mind."

"It is the only thing that has been on your mind since then. That's why you punched the wall when you left their house," her tone was so matter-of-fact that Richard wondered if she had had him followed. As if she had heard his thoughts, she continued, "It makes sense, you know. You came back because you wanted to see me, but then you saw me with a woman who had to wait longer than she thought for her husband to return, and that did not help at all, did it?"

All pretence gone, Richard merely sighed. "No, it didn't."

Diana hummed in response, slipping out of his grasp only to curl up against his side, her petite frame easily fitting into the gap between him and the chair's arm. "I won't say you're wrong," she whispered, following his gaze and staring into the flames. "It would kill me if you did not come back."

Richard felt his heart break at her words. "Diana, I –"

"It's all right," she slipped her fingers through his and gave him a small smile. "Shall we worry about bad things closer to the time, instead of now?"

What would worrying achieve? He sighed. "If I could stay, you know I would."

"I know," the flippant way she dismissed his words irked him, but he pushed it down. "Do you think I should go with you to visit his wife tomorrow?"

Richard smiled a little. "What makes you think I am going tomorrow?"

Diana arched an eyebrow. "Aren't you?"

"Of course."

"Then take me with you. We will stop at your aunt's house on the way home."

Richard grimaced. "Is that necessary?"

"Yes. We may even have to see Rose, if you aren't feeling up to the dinner tonight."

"We can still go if you want to."

"Not if you are this upset."

"I think seeing my wife looking beautiful rather than worried will cheer me up," Richard smiled slightly at her blush. "And didn't you have that ridiculously fashionable dress made specifically for such an occasion?"

"I could wear it some other day," she persisted, though even he could tell it was half-hearted.

"You will wear it tonight," he kissed her temple. "Though I would ask that you let me sleep until the last possible moment. I am afraid my night was restless."

"I know," said Diana. She got up and offered him a hand, leading him towards the bed. "I will wake you when you need to start getting ready."

He collapsed onto the bed with a groan. "Not exactly the first month of marriage I had envisioned for us," sighed Richard.

"Really?" Diana raised her eyebrows. She adjusted the pillows behind his head absently. "And what did you imagine for us?"

"For one thing, I thought we would see _less_ of other people."

Diana snorted. "Wishful thinking, darling."

"I know," he grabbed her hand as she made to turn away. "And where are you going?"

She looked confused. "I am not sleepy, Richard."

"Stay with me," he kissed her knuckles. He wondered if she could feel the slight tremble in his hands. It had not gone away since yesterday.

"Oh," yes, she had clearly noticed. "Of course, if you like."

Richard watched as she flitted about the room for a moment, gathering a book and stoking the fire before climbing into bed beside him. She smiled when she saw him watching. "What?" she asked, half-laughing.

Richard shook his head. "You will wake me?" he confirmed, unwilling to have her sacrifice her evening's entertainment for him.

"I will," she leaned closer to kiss him softly. "Sleep well."

"I'll try."

 **!**

"You both appear to have made up rather nicely."

Diana smiled, sipping her wine. "Hello, Rose."

"And I do wish you would stop giving me false ideas of what marriage is like," sighed Rose rather dramatically as she fanned herself. "Your husband is so unlike my betrothed."

"I am sure Sir Ralph is a lovely man."

"Yes, but he's no Richard Fitzwilliam, is he?"

Diana smirked. "Of course not."

Rose swatted her gently on the arm with her fan, clicking her tongue in disapproval even as she grinned at her friend. Diana looked uncommonly well, and arriving on the arm of a handsome, newly-promoted officer in his regimentals who just _happened_ to be the son of an earl had made an especially pretty picture. People would talk, of course, but currently they were talking _good_ things. Lady Rosalind Bertram allowed herself to bask in the glow of a job well done, if only for a while.

"You've done a lovely job with tonight," continued Diana, putting her half-empty glass down on a nearby table. Rose could not remember the last time her friend had finished an entire glass. "Your guest list is magnificent, particularly for this time of the season. Will you ever tell me your secret?"

Rose giggled. " _You_ want to throw a party like this?"

Diana grimaced. "You make a good point. Perhaps you should keep your secrets."

"I intend to. Come now, will entreating you to a performance tonight do any good or are you still refusing to perform in public?"

"Not tonight, I am afraid," Diana's smile became slightly sad. "It has not been a happy day for us. Richard's superior officer was killed and he went to inform the family yesterday."

Rose's eyes lit up with understanding. "That sounds awful. Is that why…?"

"Yes," replied Diana, not needing her to finish her sentence. "I should have known I would have to deal with something like this soon."

"I do hope you aren't blaming yourself for your reaction."

Diana shrugged. "I could have pushed him a bit, I suppose, but not much else could be done. He was upset before he saw me, and seeing me with Cecelia Hart did not improve his mood. The Colonel stayed away for two years after their marriage, you know."

Rose paled. "But you wouldn't have to –"

"My dear, there you are!" Sir Ralph Bolton swooped in, and both women put hasty smiles on their faces at his arrival. Rose's was slightly more genuine. "Have you met the Whites? Oh, good evening, madam," he bowed low to Diana. "I trust you are keeping well?"

"Uncommonly well, Sir Ralph," said Diana pleasantly. "Go on, dear, make your rounds," she added to Rose, whom she could see seemed slightly unwilling to leave her alone. "I promise to behave," she winked. Rose rolled her eyes, but departed on Sir Ralph's arm.

Several men and women of her acquaintance flitted by her, and for the next few minutes Diana was too distracted to consider where her husband had disappeared off to. It was not until Lady Jane Elliot enquired as to his whereabouts that Diana realized she had not seen him since the first half hour of their arrival, and they were due to enter dinner soon. Frowning slightly, she excused herself and went about the room in search.

Rose's home was lovely, but it was small, and did not take her long to find him. However, when she spotted his uniform, Diana was forced to halt and consider her next move. The woman opposite him was unmistakable, and Diana cursed herself for being too distracted to interrogate Rose about her guest list earlier. Richard's expression showed that he was far from pleased, so Diana sucked in a breath and plastered a serene expression onto her face. Though she did not hesitate to walk up to him and touch his arm, she did keep her eyes fixed on him rather than his companion.

It was Lady Ellen.

"Diana," it was Richard's aunt who spoke first, her tone not unkind but distinctly lacking any of her usual warmth. Diana spared her a glance, only long enough to curtsey, and then slipped her hand into the crook of Richard elbow. She felt his free hand come to rest on top of it assuredly. She managed a smile then.

"My lady," she replied. "I hope you are well."

"Quite," Lady Ellen inclined her head slightly. "Your dress is lovely. Is it new?"

Diana blinked, her expression cracking for only a moment. She knew her dress was lovely. It was pale blue silk, with a high waist and flattering lace collar that made her neck look longer than it was. She wore the earrings Richard had given her for Christmas but left her throat bare, another trick that she knew often turned heads in her direction, especially if she wore her hair in her usual style and kept it carefully swept up. Of course her dress was lovely. She always wore nice clothes, but were they really talking about _dresses_ now? Feeling lost, she dug her fingers into Richard's arm. He did not move a muscle from her side. "Yes, I bought some fabric from Lambton over Christmas."

"I always did say you looked well in blue," the offhand comment threw her off even more. "Well, I won't keep you two. Newly-weds are so in demand at these events. You will come for tea, tomorrow?" she added. Her gaze lingered on Richard, but she looked at Diana directly, clearly including her in the invitation.

"Of course," murmured Diana. Lady Ellen nodded, seeming satisfied, and excused herself. When Diana was sure she was deep in conversation with a man she did not recognize, she pinched Richard's arm. He grunted. She did not dare to look at him. "What was that?"

"I will tell you when we're home," was all he said. One look at his face revealed that, whatever his aunt's motivations for attempting to be kind to her now, they had not pleased him. "And _when_ may we leave, might I ask?"

"You already want to leave?" asked Diana in surprise. "It has barely been an hour."

"You know I hate such things."

Her eyes narrowed. "No, I had no idea. You always seemed perfectly happy at every party I ever saw you at."

He looked at her as if she were an idiot. "That was _years_ ago," he said pointedly.

"Yes, I suppose having a pretty heiress or two to stare at does wonders for your mood." She knew it was a mistake as soon as she had said it.

Richard's lips curled back into a sneer. "I can stare perfectly even now, madam, I assure you."

Diana wanted to pull her hand away. "By all means."

"I did not realize I required your permission."

"You clearly do not care either way."

He seemed affronted by her words. "I was not the one who brought the topic up, Diana."

She was feeling petulant. "Well, _I_ am not the one being impossible."

"Impossible?" he sounded genuinely surprised by her accusation. "I'm sorry, what did you _expect?"_

"I did not _force_ you to come, Richard!"

"You may as well have!"

"That isn't fair and you know it, you said –"

"Everything alright here?" Rose slid up to them smilingly, her concern radiating off her in waves despite her easy expression. "Oh, Richard, Lord and Lady Roberts have been dying to see you, I promised them I would send you over before dinner. Would you…?"

"A pleasure," said Richard, his tone polite but his expression still annoyed. Bowing stiffly, he let go of Diana's arm and walked off in the direction Rose had indicated. Diana did not miss the way he stopped a footman for a glass of wine as he walked away.

"I hope I did not intrude, but you two looked as though you were disagreeing," Rose took Diana's arm smoothly, leading her towards the balcony. "Perhaps some fresh air will help."

Diana allowed herself to be steered away silently. She regretted her words now, and felt as though she ought to have pushed Richard to stay at home more when he had clearly been so upset. But nevertheless, his comments stung. She had gone to meet his friends without so much as a word of complaint, despite her clear apprehension. The least he could do was _pretend_ to tolerate the company of her friends, many of whom were people he claimed to like as well. And just _what_ had his aunt said that made him willing to snap at her?

Wisely, Rose did not say anything. They walked around the room in silence, only pausing at random intervals to smile at people and, in Diana's case, accept either congratulations or jabs at her marriage. She knew why they were coming her way; it was only their second public outing together and, unlike the Darcy's Christmas ball, Richard had barely been by her side for a few minutes at a time.

Her expression had gone from slightly weary to cold and unresponsive by the time dinner was announced, and she almost pitied the young man who walked her into the dining-room; not too much, of course, because he was too busy making eyes at a young woman who had asked Diana pointedly if her husband planned to join her at all that evening, or if he had tired of married life already.

On any other occasion, Diana _knew_ she would have been able to handle the people around her with a grace and tact that she had learned after years of being out in a society that had never truly accepted her. The comforts of Matlock and Pemberley, however, had damaged her own abilities. She had grown used to people actually meaning what they said when they spoke to her. The veiled insults, the hidden meanings… she missed quite a few of them, and reacted too late to the ones she did understand. It irked her to no end, and an irrational part of her brain blamed it on Richard, and his perfect family that he had convinced her to marry into. As willing as they were to jump to her defence at the slightest hint of insult, they were not here _now_. It was only her. Richard was sat too far away, and his expression kept most people away from him. No doubt they were already assuming their marriage was in trouble. Diana did not even want to look at Lady Ellen. Suddenly, she just wanted to go home.

"Is the food to your liking, madam?" Sir Ralph was seated by her, and though Diana was sure Rose had meant it as a compliment, she would have much preferred to have someone snobby and snarky who would not try to make conversation with her all night.

As such, she attempted a smile and pushed her untouched plate away from herself. "A touch lightheaded," she answered him pleasantly. "But I am sure the food is exquisite. Is not the soup from your cook, Sir Ralph?"

Sir Ralph's eyes twinkled at her comment, and he proceeded to chatter her ear off about his cook and the wonderful recipes he had brought back from his last visit to the continent that she excelled at making. Inwardly thanking whatever higher power there was that Sir Ralph loved to hear the sound of his own voice, Diana hummed in agreement at all the right places and made it to dessert before she was expected to speak in return.

"And how is Mrs. Darcy?" asked Sir Ralph. Finally, a question that required her to answer in words. "I hear you and she are great friends."

"We are. She is a charming girl, and excellently suited to Darcy's temperament," answered Diana. She knew exactly what to say. She was slightly impressed by Sir Ralph's willingness to think the best of Elizabeth. Perhaps Rose had had more of an effect than she realized.

"You seem to suit the Major General's temperament as well," commented Sir Ralph. Diana took a moment to respond, weighing his words to see how genuine they were. To her surprise, they seemed free of all judgement. He smiled at her silence. "I assure you, madam, I wish you well. I have you to think for introducing me to my lovely Rosalind, of course."

Her reply was automatic. "No thanks necessary, Sir Ralph, I am happy to assist in any way I can."

"Then perhaps you will not think me too forward if I assure you of the same?"

"Too forward?" Diana raised her eyebrows. "I have never had such a complaint, I must confess."

Sir Ralph inclined his head. "So you would not be offended if I commented on something I noticed earlier?"

Immediately, her guard was up. However, she could not very well refuse him now. He had been nothing but polite, and he was getting married to Rose. She would do well to keep on his good side. Warily, Diana nodded her head. "I am listening."

Sir Ralph busied himself with his napkin, speaking words that threw Diana completely. "I know what it is, to have relatives against the idea of your marriage," when he chanced a glance at her, his eyes were oddly sympathetic. "I cannot offer you any reassurance that it will get better, but I can say that, at least from my knowledge, your marriage seems to be worth it. Do not let them win, madam. They _want_ you to fight and be unhappy. Do not give them the power to say they were right in their opposition."

Diana was speechless. Sir Ralph had never struck her as an observant man, or even a _kind_ one. He had simply been in her way earlier in the year, and she had dealt with him in the best way she knew how. Clearly, he felt as though he owed her something. Or perhaps it was her friendship with Rose that made him express himself in such a way. She really could not tell. However, she _was_ relieved, and she offered him a smile to show that no, she had taken no offense at his words. She could not say anything, however, because she felt a warm, familiar had come to rest on her shoulder from behind her chair.

"You seem to be entertaining my wife wonderfully well, Bolton," said Richard, his voice cheerful – at least, everyone except Diana would think it cheerful. She could detect the slight edge in his tone. "I do hope I do not need to be jealous."

"As if you could have anything to be jealous of!" scoffed Sir Ralph, before Diana could respond. He got up from his chair immediately, graciously indicating to Richard that he could seat himself. The men and women had not separated, Diana noted – most of them had gone to the card-room, but a few had wandered to the music-room, where someone was playing the pianoforte. Sir Ralph bowed to her once, a kind smile on his face, and excused himself. The dining-room was almost empty as Richard sat down in his chair.

"I've never seen Bolton make you smile so much," snorted Richard, picking up her abandoned dinner roll and tearing it in half. He offered her some, but Diana shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. She watched him carefully as he chewed, wiped his hands and mouth, and then turned to look at her with a raised eyebrow. "Am I under scrutiny?" he asked.

"You are not drunk," noted Diana.

Richard rolled his eyes. "No, Diana. I know you hate it when I drink too much."

"I thought –"

"Yes, I know, you thought because I was upset I would over-indulge," another snort, and he offered her some bread again. "I have no plans for us to fight even more so than usual, I assure you."

"I do not understand why we are fighting in the first place," Diana fixed her eyes onto her plate as she finally accepted the bread. Her fingers tore it into little pieces restlessly. "As far as I am aware, neither of us did anything wrong, and I thought –"

"Hush now," Richard's voice was much softer when he interrupted her. He had lost his mocking tone, and for that she was grateful. Gently, he tugged the bread from her fingers, forcing them to still. "I don't suppose I've done anything to deserve a smile?"

Diana blinked. "You want me to smile?"

"Nothing would make me happier," without so much as a look around to see if they were alone, he brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. "I told you, I wanted to spend the night looking at my beautiful wife."

Diana's lips twitched despite herself. "Am I not beautiful when I frown?"

"You are," he acquiesced. "But you are not my Diana when you look like that," pointedly, his fingers smoothed out the wrinkles between her brows. It was exactly what she did whenever he was annoyed. The action itself made her smile slightly, and Richard looked triumphant.

Playfully, she moved her face out of his reach. "Pretty words, Richard."

Richard smiled. "I have already married you, my dear, any words I speak now will be true whether you like them or not."

"Your logic is sound, as always."

"Well, now we know you didn't just marry me for my uniform."

"No, I didn't," oddly, the words made her inexplicably sad. "I married you because I couldn't stand the thought of being away from you for a moment longer than absolutely necessary."

"I know," discreetly, he raised her hand to his lips. "Believe me, my love, I feel the same way."

"Yet you insist on pushing me away every chance you get."

"I do not know what it is that you would have me do," he sounded genuinely confused. "My worries are not yours to bear, Diana."

"Then why are mine yours?"

Richard sighed. "I want to talk about this when we are home. But," he added, seeing her ready to argue. " _But,_ I would like to apologize for my behaviour, today and yesterday. I do feel better when I confide in you, and I am aware that my delay in doing so only upsets us both."

Diana knew she would get no more out of him, not that night at least. And perhaps that did not matter. He was leaving her, and every moment she spent being angry was a moment she would not get back. If they had time in the future, they could address such problems. For now, she suddenly did not _want_ to. She wanted to be home, with her husband, where she could kiss him without causing a scandal. So, she did what she knew was wrong, but felt right. She smiled. "In other words, our fight was your fault?"

Richard looked relieved as he grinned. "Is that all it took for you to finally smile at me?"

 _No._ "Yes," she squeezed his hand. "I love you."

"And I love you," another kiss to her knuckles. "Come, let us go listen to whoever is massacring that song."

Diana breathed out a laugh, hearing the notes of a popular Italian song that she knew quite well drifting through the closed doors. It was indeed being sung rather off-key by someone in the music-room. However, she shook her head at his suggestion. "Let's go home."

"Home?" Richard looked surprised. "Darling, we can stay if you like. I did not mean –"

"I know," she beckoned to a footman, summoned their carriage, and stood up. "But I would rather leave now. Rose will not mind."

"Are you sure?" asked Richard hesitantly. Even he could not hide the slight relief in his eyes. Diana knew the entire evening had been a chore for him.

"Yes, quite sure," she held out her hand, and he took it, giving it a grateful squeeze. Diana felt the need to tease him, to reassure him that she wanted to leave for herself as much as for him. "We could always go to dinner at your aunt's, if you are feeling the need to socialize."

His answering laugh made her smile wider, even as her heart ached at the thought of losing him so soon.


	59. Chapter 59

**I HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN ABOUT THIS STORY.**

 **I'm so close to the end now I can almost taste it! Special thanks to those of you who are loyal and review every chapter no matter how long I take to update! Much love to**

 **Motherof8**

 **Jansfamily4**

 **Deanna27**

 **Carolineonestop**

 **for their reviews! Here is another one, let me know if you're still around! I am so excited to start the sequel.**

* * *

Waking up in complete silence was no longer as comforting as it had once been, thought Richard as he gazed up at the roof of the bed. It was _too_ quiet now; even Diana's soft, even breaths from her position at his side made him restless. The only noises in the room were from the dying fire, since it was still too early for a maid to come in. It was an odd luxury, this silence, but not one than he could bring himself to enjoy.

And it was not due to any odd, existential crisis either. He knew exactly why he did not like the quiet. It was because he was used to storms following the calm at a rapid speed, and the thought of one more thing to deal with made him sigh wearily. How odd for a man to think that his marriage was the least stressful thing in his life at the moment! His departure, which was set in stone and could not be altered no matter how much he wanted to stay, was the major source of contention. Everything else seemed to stem from that.

"If you think any louder you'll wake the whole house," said a sleepy voice by his side. Richard's lips twitched as he felt Diana's hand touch his arm. "Something on your mind?"

"Did my thinking wake you?" he asked, turning on his side. Diana's eyes were slightly squinted from sleep, but she still smiled and kissed his cheek.

"That rather loud sigh did it, I'm afraid," she told him, sitting up and reaching for her robe which was hanging by the headboard of the bed. She shivered as she slipped it on. "Lord, it's _cold."_

Richard frowned. "The room's fairly warm, isn't it?"

Diana waved away his words, slipping out of bed and padding towards the fire. She picked up a poker and stabbed the nearest burning log gingerly, almost shrieking when it moved and settled again amidst a shower of sparks. Rolling his eyes, Richard grabbed his own robe and came to stand by her, taking the poker from her hands with a raised eyebrow.

"Try not to set us on fire, love," he said mildly. Diana stuck out her tongue at him which he ignored, kneeling down and adjusting the logs and coal expertly. "Better?"

"No," Diana pouted, and wrapped her arms around herself to highlight the lack of warmth.

Richard sighed. "Get dressed then, I suppose."

"You sound quite reluctant for that to happen," teased Diana. Richard managed a half-hearted smile in response, and was relieved to see that her expression did not become concerned. She merely held out her arms and he willingly accepted the embrace, noting that her entire body was indeed quite cold for someone who had just gotten out of bed. He felt her fingers massage his scalp. "Are you feeling any better?" she asked gently.

"I did not realize I was feeling bad to begin with."

"Yes, you were."

Richard sighed. "It will pass."

Diana hummed in response. "Must you go today?"

He did not need to ask where she meant. "I should," he said. Even he could hear the reluctance in his own voice, and he winced. "Not that I want to."

"If you do go, the only time I'll get to see you is when we go see Crooke's family and then tea with your aunt."

He kissed her hair. "I am sorry."

Diana shrugged in his arms. "I suppose it could be made worth my while."

Richard pulled back immediately. "Do you want something? Why didn't you tell me?"

Diana rolled her eyes. _"_ I meant _you_ could make it worth my while," when he still looked slightly confused, Diana huffed in annoyance and used her grip on the back of his head to pull him down for a kiss. She could feel him smile against her mouth at her reaction, and that only caused her to pull his hair slightly harder than necessary. _Tease._

"Insatiable woman," Richard's voice was husky as he pulled back a fraction of an inch, only to nudge aside the top of her robe with his nose so he could kiss her shoulder. "Did I not satisfy you last night, my love?"

"Perhaps I'm greedy," she sighed, her eyes fluttering shut. The feeling of his warm mouth against her still cold skin was making her see stars. "You are quite addictive, you know."

"I do believe that is what I say about you."

"And I do believe you were the insatiable one."

"Not _were_ ," Richard pressed one last kiss to her now bare shoulder and smirked at her expression. "I still am."

Diana opened her mouth to retort, only to realize that Richard had strategically backed her up so that she was standing by the sofa in front of the fire. She raised an eyebrow at his wicked grin. "We do have a _bed,_ you know."

"Too far," he dismissed, and the next thing Diana knew her robe was a distant memory and she was deliciously warm, Richard's body covering hers completely as he pushed her back onto the sofa, cradling her back gently against the cushions. "Now, let's see about getting you warm again."

 **!**

"Navy silk or black velvet, mum?"

"Hmm?" Diana looked up from her book, raising an eyebrow at Sarah's harried expression. "What in the world for?"

"You have to pay your respects at Mrs. Crooke's house and then you have tea with Lady Ellen," said Sarah, looking like she wanted to roll her eyes. "Which dress, mum?"

"Whichever one you like," Diana shrugged. When Sarah continued to look exasperated, she sighed. "Grieving widows do not care what their guests wear, and hateful old women will only ever find something wrong with one's attire. Pick a dress, Sarah. I honestly could not care less."

"Silk," said Sarah, setting it down and hanging up the other one. "And you do care, mum."

Diana bristled. "What do you –"

"You loved Lady Ellen," Sarah's eyes were sympathetic. "What she said to you was awful, mum, but you did love her, and I know it hurts you to be at odds with her."

"If the price of reconciling with her is giving up my husband, I think I would prefer that we go our separate ways," Diana put away her book and stood up. "Help me get dressed, would you? Richard should be home soon."

Sarah nodded and got to work, wisely keeping silent as she tied stays, pinned hair and fastened buttons. Diana was patting her hair into place when a sharp knock sounded at the door, followed by Richard's entrance. Sarah curtsied and retreated, and Diana watched Richard cross the room to sink into the armchair by the fire, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

She pursed her lips. "Are you alright?"

"I will be," running a hand through his hair, Richard offered her a smile as she approached him. "You look lovely."

Diana wrinkled her nose. "It really isn't in good taste to look _lovely_ whilst going to offer condolences."

"You cannot help how beautiful you are," shrugged Richard. Diana caressed his cheek, and he leaned into her touch. "You're sure you want to do this?"

"Yes," Diana smiled, trying to hide her inner trepidation. "As long as you stay with me."

"That is an easy promise to keep," Richard kissed the back of her hand and stood up, offering her his arm. They descended the stairs quietly, and the carriage was readied immediately. Diana tried to look outside the window and enjoy the view of London covered in snow, but it was difficult. Next to her, Richard was constantly tapping his fingers against his leg, a clear sign of impatience.

"I doubt you need to be nervous about my behaviour, darling," said Diana finally, when his movements had irritated her enough.

"Your behaviour is the least of my concerns," muttered Richard. "It's _hers."_

"She's just lost her husband, how can you –"

"Not _her,"_ Richard rolled his eyes. "We will barely stop here for an hour, Diana. I am more concerned about my aunt's conduct."

"As if I've never met a woman who despises me," Diana shrugged off her own words, patting her husband's arm just as the carriage came to a halt. "It will all be over soon."

Richard muttered something unintelligible before preceding her out of the carriage. As he offered her a hand down, Diana spotted a small child, barely five years old, peering out from behind the door a footman was holding open. As soon as the little girl caught her eye, she fled, but the black frock was unmistakable. She was the deceased's daughter.

"Ready?" asked Richard again.

Diana held his arm tightly. "Of course, dear."

The house was warm and inviting, but the sombre atmosphere was obvious. They were ushered into the parlour immediately, where an old woman who was clearly Crooke's mother was sitting by the fire. There was some needlework in her hands, but Diana could tell that she hadn't been focused on her task at all. Old Mrs. Crooke stood, but stared at them in confusion. The footman behind them cleared his throat and, pointedly, announced their names again.

At his words, she blinked. "Oh, Major General," she reached out and clasped Richard's hands with her own. "So kind of you to come again. And you must be his lovely wife," she managed a wan smile for Diana and squeezed her hands as well. "Such a pretty thing. Laura looked so pretty too, when James brought her home for the first time. Yes, so pretty…" she words trailed off as she continued to look at them, her eyes taking on a slightly glassy look. "I am sorry, my dears, did you want something?"

"I believe they came to see Mistress Laura, ma'am," said the footman, before either Richard or Diana could speak. He bowed when all eyes turned to him. "I shall fetch her at once and bring you some tea."

"Yes, very good, Andrew," said Mrs. Crooke, nodding her head absently. "Do fetch Laura."

Andrew bowed again and left the room, and Diana and Richard exchanged a glance. Neither of them had any doubt as to what had caused Mrs. Crooke's strange behaviour, and the thought of it made Diana's heart ache. Before either of them had a chance to speak, however, Andrew had returned and Mrs. Laura Crooke was announced.

Immediately, Diana understood by Richard had been so upset. Laura's pale complexion, golden hair and slightly hesitant movements were incredibly reminiscent of Georgiana. However, her eyes were hard and blank, as if the happiness had been stripped from them. As Diana stood and held out a hand towards the grieving woman, she realized that it _had_ , and that fact did not surprise her in the least. Would she really be any different, if she had been in Laura Crooke's place?

"I received your note, Major General," said Laura, as they sat down after exchanging greetings. Her voice was flat and slightly hoarse, but must have been pleasing at some point in time. She nodded to Richard, and the gratitude was evident in her movements despite her unsmiling countenance. "It is very thoughtful of you to work so hard at getting my husband's possessions back to us. Mother and I are very much in your debt."

Richard merely bowed his head in response. Diana pressed his arm discreetly, feeling incredibly proud of the wonderful man sitting next to him. Two days ago, he had never known Laura Crooke existed, but that would not stop him from helping her in any way he could now. And, for his sake, she would do the same.

"And I must thank you," said Laura suddenly, her quiet voice breaking the silence that had descended between the two women. "You are very kind to come," she angled herself towards Diana, away from the other occupants of the room: Richard was patiently listening to old Mrs. Crooke go on about an incident from her son's childhood, and both woman had been watching them interact for the past few minutes.

Diana touched her arm. "We wanted to pay our respects, and assure you that if you need any help you need only ask."

"That is very generous, but I was speaking of you specifically," Laura sipped her tea, but the slight tremble in her hand did not go unnoticed by either of them.

"I have not done anything warranting such thanks."

"Your husband is leaving, perhaps to a similar fate as mine," said Laura. Her blank tone took some of the sting out of her words, and the sudden pain that flashed through her eyes spoke volumes of her grief. "I would not have thought you would have wanted to be reminded of that fact."

Diana was forced to put her teacup down to avoid spilling any of its contents. She folded her hands in her lap to calm the shaking. "I would want my friends around me if something like that should happen," she said finally. "Wouldn't you?"

Laura's lips twitched minutely. "Are we friends, then?"

"I would like to be."

Laura looked at her critically, as if suddenly seeing her for the first time. "You don't have children yet, do you, Mrs. Fitzwilliam?"

Diana shook her head, and then, after a moment's hesitation, "I cannot have children, my dear."

Laura's aloof expression cracked. This time, it was she who touched Diana's arm. "I am sorry," she said, her voice breaking. "I do not mean to make you feel worse, not at all, but the thought of losing James is enough to kill me. If I had lost him without my children to live for I don't know what I would have done."

"You would have survived," soothed Diana.

"Could you?"

Diana smiled, a little grimly. "Will I have a choice?"

 **!**

"Laura opened up with you by the end, didn't she?" asked Richard conversationally.

Diana nodded, resting her head against his arm tiredly as the carriage lurched to a stop yet again. The snow was making travel next to impossible, and they were already late for tea. Despite the fact that they had left over fifteen minutes ago, they had not spoken till that moment, both too lost in their own thoughts. "She is a lovely girl."

"She said some things that upset you," Richard wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer and kissing her temple when she nuzzled her face into his chest. "Didn't she?"

"I would not blame a grieving woman for saying some things that would distress me," sighed Diana. "I cannot imagine being in her shoes."

"I wouldn't want you to."

"But we both know I could be."

"I will try my hardest that you never have to be, my love."

Diana reached for his free hand, entwining their fingers. "And I will try to believe that."

She felt him kiss her again, and finally the carriage began to move. "Aunt Ellen will be displeased that we were late," noted Richard.

"No doubt that will somehow be my fault as well," Diana snorted.

"We could always lie and say _I_ made _you_ late."

"Could we?" Diana looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. "Do you plan to tell her exactly what we did this morning as an excuse for being late?"

Richard grimaced. "That would be an awkward conversation."

"That is an understatement," Diana rolled her eyes.

"We won't have to stay for long," he felt the need to reassure her finally. "I know why she's doing this."

"Do you?" Diana asked, in a tone that clearly stated it made no difference to her.

"Yes. My father wrote to her and said that she could get behind the family in supporting my marriage, or he would cut all ties with her," Diana pulled away from him immediately, her mouth open in shock, and he shook his head at her worried expression. "My mother read the letter before he sent it. She agreed."

"Richard, I do not want –"

"It is done," he said finally, and coaxed her back into his arms. "It could have been worse, but Aunt Ellen agreed immediately. You can expect an invitation from her every week you are in town. Feel free to ignore them."

Diana sighed. "You know I can't do that."

"Then take mamma or Emily with you," Richard's tone brokered no arguments. "I have seen how she disrespects you in private, and she knows perfectly well you would never tell a soul about it out of consideration for our family. It is better not to give her the opportunity."

"Well, I do not plan to be in town very much if I can help it," said Diana, finally relaxing in his embrace once again. "No doubt if Emily and Henry take their holiday as planned I will be looking after the children. I will request being allowed to stay at Matlock with them, after Georgiana's coming-out."

Richard grunted. "I had forgotten that was this year."

Diana smiled. "You needn't sound so annoyed. You met me after my coming-out as well. Perhaps she will find someone soon and save you all the trouble of having to shoot more than one person."

"I was a scoundrel when we first met and you know it," Richard pinched her arm teasingly. "You only liked me because I kept those uptight _boys_ away from you."

"That wasn't the only reason," Diana persisted, despite her giggles. "You were very handsome and charming."

Richard snorted. "When I wanted something."

"You danced with me at every ball."

"Because I knew your mother hated it."

"You sent me flowers."

"Because I had no chance with you."

Diana raised her eyebrows. "Pardon me?"

Richard back-pedalled. "I was trying to explain the mind-set of young men of a certain age."

"It seems to me you were trying to explain away every nice thing you'd ever done for me," teased Diana. "Next thing you'll say you only proposed to me because you thought I'd say no!"

"I did think you'd say no," he pointed out.

Diana rolled her eyes. "Then all young men of a certain age are utterly stupid."

"I agree completely, my love," said Richard through repressed laughter as the carriage finally halted outside the Carmichael house. They exchanged a glance before Richard finally let go of her, and preceded her out of the carriage. Diana took a deep breath before accepting his offered hand, clutching it tightly as they entered the house.


	60. Chapter 60

Carmichael House lacked its usual warmth when Diana and Richard entered through the elaborate main entrance, having unwillingly braved the snowy roads outside. Though the servants greeted and bustled about in their usual way, Diana could feel the fact that she was not welcome there by their mistress anymore quite distinctly. Whether or not Richard could feel it too, she could not tell, but he did very pointedly hold her back before they left the entrance by tugging at her gloved hand and holding it to his lips briefly. The gesture made Diana smile, and Richard's responding wink lightened her heart, if only slightly.

The parlour was exactly as Diana remembered it – she had not been in months, but Lady Ellen's immaculate taste always seemed to transcend all bounds of time and fashion, and the velvet chairs and polished wooden end-tables looked the same as the last time she had visited. What was different, however, was the gentleman seated by the fire reading the newspaper.

"Uncle Albert?" asked Richard. His tone showcased the amazement they both felt at seeing the reclusive Lord Carmichael outside of his country estate. The older gentleman stood up, tossing his paper to the side and smiling welcomingly. Richard immediately crossed the room to take his hand. "When did you come to London?"

"Only just," said Lord Carmichael, patting Richard's shoulder. "I did not want to miss the chance to see you before you went, my boy. And you, my dear," he turned to Diana and bowed, and she tried not to gape at the kindness he was showing her. "It is a pleasure to see you again, and under such wonderful circumstances, no less. You will both be very happy together, I am sure."

Diana plastered a smile onto her face and nodded dumbly, finally offering her hand to Lord Carmichael, who squeezed it in a familiar way and led her to a seat, asking the footman to bring tea and summon Lady Ellen down from her chambers.

"We ought to apologize for being late," said Richard, clearing his throat. "It was just –"

"You can be as late as you like," Lord Carmichael waved a hand flippantly. "We are only very glad you came after all."

"Well, Aunt Ellen did invite us and I –"

"We were honoured to receive your invitation, my lord," cut in Diana smoothly, finally coming to her senses. She gave Richard a look that fortunately Lord Carmichael did not notice. "We did not know you were in town."

Lord Carmichael wrinkled his nose in distaste. "I do hate the London air just before the season. The desperation is quite tangible, wouldn't you agree? And please, my dear, call me Uncle Albert. We are family now, after all."

Diana was saved from speaking further as the door opened and Lady Ellen bustled in, closely followed by two servants and a trolley. The slight commotion that followed made it seem like Lady Ellen had simply grasped Diana's hand and gotten distracted by the footman, who was making tea and passing around the wrong kind of cake, but Diana knew better. Nevertheless, she kept quiet and accepted a cup, seating herself between Richard and Lord Carmichael, leaving Lady Ellen to occupy the single armchair opposite them.

As the footman finally bowed and left the room, Lady Ellen spoke. "Alexandra informed me you would be going to shop for Emily's youngest whilst in London, Diana, have you done that already?"

Diana kept her eyes on her lap, faking demureness. Inwardly, she narrowed her eyes. "I have a list of things that Emily asked for but I have not had the chance to go shopping yet, no."

"Then you would not mind indulging an old woman's whims and allowing me to accompany you when you do go?"

"No, my lady, it would be my honour," she replied. It took a great deal of effort not to exchange a look with Richard at her words, but Diana was sure she saw Lord Carmichael nod to his wife subtly out of the corner of her eye. "If you would name a day that suits you, I will be at your service."

Lady Ellen looked extremely satisfied. "I will let you know in the morning. Well, Richard," and just like that, she turned away from Diana to address her nephew singularly. "I trust you are prepared for your departure?"

"Yes, aunt," said Richard. The edge in his voice was unmistakable. Diana continued to smile.

"And, of course, I trust Diana is handling all the particulars?" said Lord Carmichael, smiling kindly at her.

"Between her and my valet, I doubt I have anything left to do other than show up at the docks," snorted Richard. He reached over and squeezed Diana's hand, causing her smile to become slightly more genuine.

"Is it too much to hope that the war will be over in the next two days?" asked Diana, smiling wistfully as Richard kissed her knuckles.

"Ah, if only that were so," Lord Carmichael smiled sadly. "So much bloodshed seems so unnecessary."

"It is an unfortunate necessity, Uncle," said Richard.

"Yes, yes," sighed Lord Carmichael. "Still, all those young boys…" he trailed off, shaking his head sadly. Diana had stopped smiling.

Lady Ellen cleared her throat. "Where did you say you were, Richard, before coming to us?"

"My commanding officer was killed," replied Richard. "We went to pay our respects to his family."

"Both of you?" something in her tone made Diana grip her cup harder, but she did not let her expression waver as Richard answered in the affirmative for her. Her throat was dry from not speaking despite the tea she was consuming.

"You must have been a comfort to her," said Lord Carmichael sympathetically. He inquired after the family a bit more, and Lady Ellen sipped her tea quietly. Diana watched her husband and his uncle interact, trying to act as though she had not noticed her aunt-in-law staring at her quite pointedly.

It went on for a few minutes, and just when Diana was about to say something in order to turn to catch Lady Ellen in the act, the older woman spoke. "I hope you acquired that stain on your dress after meeting them, Diana," said Lady Ellen. She nodded to a small patch near her shoulder that was darker than the rest of her dress. "It would be quite unseemly to visit a house in mourning like that. You ought to tell your maid to do a better job."

"What stain?" Richard frowned and turned to face Diana, following his aunt's line of sight. His face coloured slightly at what he saw.

Diana put a hand on his arm to calm him down, though her own ears were ringing. _The nerve…_ "Hush," she murmured. "There is no need –"

"That _stain_ is probably from when Mrs. Crooke almost collapsed against her as we were saying our goodbyes and burst into tears," said Richard testily, glaring at his aunt.

Lady Ellen made a noise of sorrow, but busied herself with her tea to avoid answering. Lord Carmichael looked agitated, and silence descended upon them once more.

It seemed never-ending. Richard avoided eye contact with his aunt and gazed at a painting without really seeing it. Next to him, Diana stared at the crystal table in front of her, also silent. Lady Ellen looked as though she would rather be anywhere but in the room with them, and though Lord Carmichael tapped his fingers against his knee in agitation, he did not speak either. He cleared his throat and gestured to his wife to pour him another cup of tea, his eyes darting about the room restlessly. Shoulders slumping slightly, Diana took another piece of cake and resolved to spend the rest of the visit in silence as Lord Carmichael tried to engage Richard once more in a conversation about his estate.

 **!**

"Thinking too much?" Diana soft voice interrupted his thoughts.

Richard shook his head reflexively, but he knew his wife had seen through him. He had been silent since they had left his aunt's house, silent in the carriage home, silent through dinner, and even now when he had joined his wife in her room as she sat in front of her vanity mirror getting ready for bed – he had not even realized her maid was not in the room – he would not speak.

"It is nothing too morbid," he said finally. Diana sighed and stood up, rubbing her eyes tiredly as she stretched her arms above her head. Richard took a moment to admire her figure: the tiny waist, the slight shoulders, the elegant curve of her neck… his wife was truly breath-taking.

"Perhaps we could avoid the morbid thoughts completely?" Diana paused in front of the full-length mirror, halting in her efforts to yank out a hair-comb long enough to give him an appreciative smile before returning to her task.

"Would you like some help?" asked Richard, a small smile twitching at his lips. It never failed to amuse him how much she struggled with her hair.

"Please," Diana huffed. "I haven't undone my own hair in so long that I've completely forgotten how to avoid tangling it all."

Richard chuckled and gently pried her fingers away from her head, undoing the knots that has twisted themselves around her comb. Diana's own impatient tugging had made the situation worse rather than better, and it took him over ten minutes to finally extract the comb from her hair. When he was done, Diana sighed in relief. Richard kissed her temple. "Sit down," he instructed. "I'll brush it out for you."

Diana looked like she might argue, but thought better of it and sank down onto the stool in front of her vanity wearily. Richard picked up her brush and ran it through her tresses carefully, making sure to avoid getting stuck in the tangles that so annoyed her. The monotonous task was oddly soothing, and he was so wrapped up in it that he did not realize Diana was watching him through her mirror; when he finished and glanced up at her, he saw that she was smiling.

Richard smiled back. "What is it?" he asked, handing her back the brush and helping her to her feet.

Diana shook her head, still smiling, and caressed his face gently. "You are such a wonderful husband."

"And you are the perfect woman for me," he kissed her forehead. "Shall we go to bed?"

Diana did not move. Her eyes had taken on that same glassy look, an expression he had come to be wary of. Often, the things she said when she was lost in such thoughts distressed them both. "Sometimes I think you don't realize what you gave up by marrying me."

"Diana…" Richard sighed and pulled her closer, cradling her face gently in both of his hands. "I _gave up_ nothing."

"You gave up any hope of children of your own," said Diana quietly. Her eyes were curious as she gazed up at him, devoid of grief. It would come later, he knew that by now. "You spend so much time worrying about me and how I feel, do you not sometimes think about how that makes _you_ feel?"

"I already told you, I –"

"Darling, the pain of losing your true love is always eased if you have the love of a child that is your own."

"What would you have me say?" asked Richard exasperatedly. "I don't regret marrying you, children or no children. Would you have me regret it?"

"Would you tell me if you did?"

"But I _don't_."

"That does not answer my question."

"I have already told you," said Richard, fighting to keep his voice even. "I lost you once, and I cannot, I _will not,_ do that again. I think it is horribly unfair on you, and perhaps even on both of us, but if the price I pay to have a child is giving you up, I will not do it."

"Then you do not realize what you are giving up."

"And neither do you," said Richard bluntly. Diana winced, but he caught her before she could walk away, and kissed her forehead again to soften the blow. "I am sorry," he murmured against her skin. "I would never distress you willingly, my love, but you need to get this idea out of your head. If every time we go see my aunt you will have second thoughts and doubt me, I will put a stop to it, believe me."

"It isn't entirely her," said Diana, her free hand tucking her hair out of her face even as she tried to hide in his chest. "And I would never doubt you."

Richard sighed. "Having a child with you would be wonderful, and I would want nothing more. But I have you now, and I will not be ungrateful. You will always be enough for me," he held her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Will I be enough for you, Diana?"

She genuinely seemed surprised by his question. "How can you even ask that?" she demanded. The familiar glint was back in her eye, and he relished it. Better an angry wife over a depressed one, any day. "You will _always_ be enough for me, you foolish man. I worry _I_ am not enough for _you_. I see how you are with Henry and Margaret, and I know the reason you will never have that is because of me!"

"It is because of a choice _I_ made which has nothing to do with you," replied Richard easily. Diana's temper had always cooled his own; one of them had to be calm during arguments, after all. "Children were the furthest thing from my mind when I asked you to marry me, Diana, you know that."

"They weren't far from my mind," said Diana quietly. Richard groaned in annoyance. She shrugged helplessly. "I told you, you are giving up too much."

"I am giving up nothing," said Richard, injecting a hint of finality into his voice. He could argue with her for hours, but he knew he would not win, and it was getting late. They both needed sleep, and he was sure Diana would come to her senses in the morning.

And he hoped she would, because he was running out of time to convince her she was wrong.

* * *

 **Hello my loves! I've been awful with this story, it is my first and truest love and I vowed never to abandon it halfway, so if this chapter is choppy in places forgive me, these are all events that I need to stuff in now that we're drawing to a close. Things will be confusing and weird now, but I can officially state that there are just under 3 chapters left, so stick around until then and maybe we can get a few more reviews!**

 **I want to thank everyone who has still stuck around - if you've gotten this update and read this chapter with even half the amount of excitement I felt when I wrote it (and you'll notice of course that I was excited, I haven't done my 101 proof-reads so there will be mistakes!), then you're a true friend.**

 **Special thanks to KurukiXV, Mpf2741, LookingAnswers, Deanna27, Jansfamily4, Motherof8 AND javaaddict1 for sticking around, you're all amazing!**

 **Fingers crossed this story ends within the month, and then keep your eyes peeled for the sequel! I will also be uploading some off-shoots and one-shots related to this story as separate pieces, so be sure to keep me on author alert in case I surprise you and release one without warning!**

 **Until next time. Much love xxxx**


	61. Chapter 61

Diana kept her face perfectly blank as she sat in her chair. She could feel countless eyes on her – she did not even know how so many people had fit into the parlour, but that was the least of her concerns. She focused on ensuring her expression was aloof as her eyes remained fixed on the centre of the room. It was the reason everyone was there, of course. Though the heavy black veil made it difficult to see, she did not need to look again. Would she ever get the image out of her head, now?

Around her, people were murmuring. Their voices touched her ear, and she registered the use of her name quite often, but barely turned her head if someone addressed her. What was the point?

"Lady Rogers said it was bad luck."

"How tragic! And he was so young, so handsome."

"Luckiest man in London, they called him, especially after he snagged a beauty like her."

"The mother has not left her room since they brought the body in."

"Diana?" the voice was so familiar that Diana flinched as she registered a warm hand touch her arm. She jerked away, fighting the urge to run as she made eye-contact with a kindly looking woman. She was very finely dressed, finer than her mother even, but her eyes were rimmed with red. Another rich aristocrat wanting to pay her respects to the child, then?

"My lady," answered Diana. Her voice was hoarse.

"Dear child," and suddenly she was in the woman's arms, and she was patting her back as Diana found herself crying hysterically, not knowing what it was about the woman that made her feel so comfortable. She had not even cried in front of her own mother yet.

She was there for too long, however. The tears would not stop, and they _had_ to stop. Mother had warned her… so she gulped and took deep breaths and forced herself to calm down. "I'm sorry," whispered Diana when the woman pulled away. To her surprise, she merely hushed her and squeezed her arm, pulling her to her feet.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," she told her. Her eyes were brown, warm and kind. "I do not suppose you know me. My husband was a great friend of your father's. I last saw you when you were just a baby."

Diana rubbed at her eyes. "I don't –"

"Fitzwilliam," the name registered in Diana's mind. A Lord Fitzwilliam had visited their estate often, and had always smiled at Diana in passing. Lady Fitzwilliam seemed pleased at the recognition in Diana's eyes, and offered her a sad smile. "I think you are quite done here, my dear. You should go on upstairs."

Diana stiffened. "Mother said –"

"Tell your mamma that Alexandra sent you up," said Lady Fitzwilliam. She pushed her slightly towards the door. "Go on then, dear. A child should not have to see her father this way. You have seen enough."

She really had. Diana sighed and took a few steps towards the door, but she could not resist turning at the last moment. Lady Fitzwilliam was already speaking to someone else, and her entire frame spoke volumes of her importance – nobody would dare to say something untoward in her presence. The thought was slightly comforting to Diana, but she still found her feet taking her towards the centre of the room. One last glance, that was all she wanted. She could see him in her mind's eye, of course, but just one look would not make it better or worse, she could risk one look…

The coffin was surrounded by flowers, and their smell was almost overpowering. Diana could not bear to look at the face, not at first. She focused on the shoes. She remembered the shoes, they were her father's best pair. Brown, worn leather, hand-made. Her father had had expensive taste. She had never even questioned where the money to fulfil those desires had come from. Her eyes went up, past the expensive suit that she had often seen him wear, past the silver chain connected to his pocket-watch just poking out of the folds, the neatly done cravat that was slightly crooked – he had always hated the way anyone had ever tied it, and he had taught her to do it just the way he liked it – and the neck that was encircled with angry marks that had turned blue some time ago.

But the face… Diana frowned. The face was all wrong. The forehead was too wide, the nose Roman and perfectly straight, not too large for the face, as her father's had been. The mouth had laugh-lines around it, as if he had spent every year of his life smiling. Her father had been a happy man, but he had not smiled in so long… morbidly curious, she reached out and touched the smooth cheek with her fingers. The skin was cold, like ice, and she drew her hand back immediately.

And then those deep-set eyes, so unlike her father's narrow ones, opened, and they were the same colour as Lady Fitzwilliam's had been, and suddenly Diana was screaming, screaming herself hoarse because _of course_ that wasn't her father, it was Richard.

 _Richard._

She was screaming his name now, and she continued to scream even as the people around her grabbed her arms and tried to drag her away from the coffin. She began to struggle, because his eyes were _open_ , he was _alive,_ and they were going to bury him, they would _kill_ him, and she couldn't let them kill Richard, she couldn't –

"Diana!" the voice in her ear was loud, almost shouting as she continued to struggle. All the hands were gone now, there was just one that was holding both her wrists, not allowing her to push them away. A warm body was on top of hers, holding her down as she tried to kick herself free. "Diana, it was a dream! I'm here, my darling, I am right next to you. Open your eyes, please. You were dreaming, it's all right, just look at me."

 _A dream…_ Diana's eyes flew open, and her gaze locked with the same pair of brown eyes she had seen in her dream. But they were not cold and lifeless. They were wide open, almost vibrant with just how _alive_ they were. She could feel her heart beat fast and loud against her chest, but he was so close to her that it could have been his that she felt. She finally freed one of her hands to touch his face, needing to know he was actually there and her mind was not playing tricks on her.

Richard's face was warm, cheeks flushed as he breathed heavily, whether through fear, or just from the sheer effort of holding her down as she had thrashed about the bed, she did not know. He let out a quiet sigh when he felt her skin touch his, and angled his face so he could kiss her fingers. His lips were warm too. Diana tangled her hand into his hair, tugging him down until his face was buried in the crook of her neck. He did not stop her. She felt him murmur her name as his lips touched her skin again and again. He was comforting her, but as his arms held her close, she realized he was taking comfort in her awakened state as well. She had screamed so much, she must have scared him. It really had been a dream.

The realization did not offer comfort, however. It made her start to shake. Her fingers in his hair trembled until they fell back onto the bed next to her head, and she was squeezing her eyes shut to block out the images in her mind's eye. Her father's funeral, the dead body, the face that should have been his but had instead been her husband's… it overwhelmed her, and she could feel her breathing become laboured.

A fraction of a second before she was sure she was about to faint, she felt Richard's weight move off her body. The thought that he was going to leave entered her brain, and she let out a strangled sob, reaching for him blindly. Her fingers made contact with his chest, and suddenly she felt him take her into her arms, cradling her in his lap like a child. His arms supported her back, making her sit up, but her body slumped against his as she gasped for breath. His lips were at her ear then, and it took her a few moments to realize, over the ringing in her ears and the sounds of her hysterics, that he was speaking to her. He had put her a hand over hers, right above his heart, and was instructing her to breath with him. She could feel his heart beat erratically under the skin, but the rise and fall of his chest was controlled and even, and she forced herself to attempt to mimic it.

She did not know how long they sat like that. Every time she thought her breathing had slowed, the unbidden image of Richard in a casket would enter her mind again, and she was forced to start all over again. It felt like the entire night had passed before she finally slumped against him, her throat hoarse and her head spinning with the effort to keep her tears at bay.

Hesitantly, she felt Richard kiss her temple. "Diana?" his voice was so quiet she might have imagined it.

Eyes closed, Diana managed to nuzzle his neck in response. She was too tired to speak, too afraid that if she opened her mouth she would simply scream again. The images from her dream still danced across her eyes, almost taunting her, but the warm arms that embraced her were comforting, reassuring her that none of it was true.

"Can you speak?" he asked. She was warmer now – he had drawn the covers around her.

She tried. "Yes," she croaked out. His arms tightened around her, and he pressed another kiss to her cheek. Diana felt a lump rise to her throat. "I a-am so s-sorry."

"Don't," his voice was curt, even as he showered the side of her face – the only part of her he could reach without moving her – with kisses. "Never apologize to me."

"Didn't w-want to sc-care you," she mumbled. The remnants of her hiccups made her practically choke on her words.

Richard shushed her immediately. "It doesn't matter, my love. You were dreaming. Everything is alright. It wasn't real. Do you understand?"

Diana nodded miserably, clutching at his arms as he gently lay them both back on the bed. She took a deep breath, letting it out shakily as she practically latched onto Richard. The very thought of letting him go, even to turn around in the bed they both shared, made her breathing hitch.

Fortunately, he had no intention of letting her go either. Diana let him smooth her hair away from her face and kissed his jaw softly. She wanted to do more, but her eyes were heavy-lidded with the exhaustion that always hit her after an attack like the one she had just overcome. Richard did not even seem to notice. His large, warm hand was resting against her back, keeping her anchored to him. The steady rise and fall of his chest under her head was soothing, and she once again forced herself to follow it. She did not realize when she fell asleep, but Richard did not close his eyes for the rest of the night.

 **!**

Diana did not know when she had decided not to tell Richard what she had dreamed about, but when she opened her eyes and saw his own worried ones watching her anxiously, she knew it was the right decision. She had woken late – Richard had told Sara not to disturb her, and had not moved from her side since. He ought to have been at work, but he had told her in no uncertain terms that he would not leave her after the night they had both had.

 _They._ His own night had been terrible as well. If Diana had gotten little sleep, she knew Richard had not gotten any. His eyes were rimmed with red from exhaustion, but he still smiled and kissed her and held her close, reluctant to let her go, though clearly he wanted to talk. Diana welcomed his affection; to talk, they would have to part, and she did not want to stop touching him, not just yet. His willingness to take care of her, and the fact that he _could_ take care of her, had made her desire her husband more than ever. Where her lips could not reach, her hands explored greedily, and as soon as she had made her intentions clear Richard's resolve had broken. He could not bear to deny her on an average day, and after the previous night Diana knew he would not refuse her. He needed her just as much as she needed him, and it was many hours before either of them even talked about what had happened.

Richard was playing with her hair, using a curl to trace her features when he spoke. "What did you dream about?" he asked quietly.

Diana inched closer to him automatically, and he rested his forehead against hers. She sighed, and closed her eyes. She would not lie, but she could not tell the whole truth. "Pappa's funeral."

Richard's forehead creased. "My darling, I am so sorry."

"Mamma was there," despite the ache in her chest, Diana managed a small smile. "She came to the house the day of the burial. I remember she hugged me and sent me upstairs, and told me no child should have to see her father like that. I saw it all again, Richard, but I –" she forced herself to stop, not wanting to give away his part in it at all. Richard mistook her silence for despair, and caressed her cheek softly, his eyes urging her to continue. She took a deep breath, choosing her words carefully. "I had gone upstairs, I remember, but in my dream I didn't. I went to the casket, I looked inside, and it was –"

"I know," Richard allowed her to bury her face into his chest, stroking her hair soothingly. "Hush, dearest, you do not have to say it. It must have been horrible, I did not realize –" he stopped himself suddenly, but Diana peered up at him curiously and he let out a sigh. "You were screaming my name, Diana. Again and again, and when I tried to touch you, you acted as though I was going to hurt you," the desperation in his eyes made her heart ache. "I did not – do anything to you, did I? In your dream?"

Diana frowned tiredly. "What do you mean? What could you have done?"

"I don't know," his free hand raked through his hair. "I know I scared you, the day Crooke died. I knocked over that table, but you know I would never, _ever_ do something like that again, don't you?"

"I don't understand –"

"You kept screaming and fighting me when I touched you, I thought you were dreaming about me and I was hurting you, and I –"

"Oh my darling, of _course_ not!" it was her turn to comfort him now, and she knew she had made the right decision to omit the full details of her dream. Richard looked as though the weight of the world had been removed from his shoulders at her reassurance. The guilt he would feel if she told him what she had seen would make him suffer too much. She wrapped her arms around his waist, stroking his hair as he peppered her shoulder with light kisses. "I could never even dream that you would hurt me, Richard," she soothed. "I was calling out for you because I knew you would keep me safe. Even in my dream, I knew that."

Richard pulled back and nodded, the haunted look leaving his face somewhat. Diana kissed him briefly, but his hand curved around her neck, crushing her mouth against his. Her eyes fluttered close, humming in pleasure when he expertly flipped her onto her back and pressed his warm body against hers. Diana welcomed his weight, needing to feel his warmth against every inch of her skin. When she snaked her fingers into his hair and tugged at it hard, she felt Richard growl, his teeth just barely grazing the skin of her throat as he dragged his lips back up to hers, attacking them hungrily.

"I could never hurt you," he murmured against her lips, pausing for breath even as he trailed his mouth along her jaw. "Never, Diana."

"I know," she hushed. He kissed her again, softer this time before pulling away completely. Even then, as he rolled onto his back he kept Diana in his arms, so she was laid across his chest. Diana felt herself smile a little, and Richard's responding smirk told her he was slightly back to normal. She caressed his cheek. "I love you."

"And I love you," he replied, catching her hand with his own and entwining their fingers. "It was just a dream."

"It was," agreed Diana. She squeezed his hand. "Thank you for taking care of me. I don't know what I would have done if you had not been there."

Richard's smile became slightly forced. "Neither do I."

Diana bit her lip when she realized when she had said. "I did not mean it like that, darling. It was just a dream, you said it yourself."

"Who will calm you down if it happens again?" asked Richard. His tone was not harsh, not directed at her anyway, and that made Diana's heart hurt even more. He was blaming himself. "You need me, Diana. I wish I had seen how _much_ you needed me sooner."

"Of course I need you," said Diana. "And you will come back to me, won't you, now that you know just how much?"

"I am going to do whatever I can to come back to you anyway," he sighed. "How can I help you if I am leaving tomorrow?"

"By staying safe."

"Diana –"

"Please," her eyes were wide, and she felt like she was close to tears again. She saw Richard's expression become wary; he did not want to upset her. "Promise me you will not put yourself in any more danger than necessary."

"Darling, I cannot –"

 _"Please."_

Richard sighed. "Don't cry," he wiped away the tears she had not even realized she had shed. "You have cried enough, Diana."

"You have not answered me."

He merely kissed her forehead in answer and hugged her again, murmuring sweet words into her ear. He was trying to distract her, taking advantage of her tired state. Diana wanted to argue with him, but as soon as she closed her eyes the image was back, Richard flat on his back in a casket surrounded by flowers, and she buried her face into his chest, allowing his warmth to engulf her and keep the darkness at bay.

* * *

 **Can't believe it's been a month since I updated! It feels so strange. Many apologies for the delay, but since we're nearing the end you can't blame me for dragging it out for as long as I can. I haven't decided if I'll take a break for the sequel or jump right into it as soon as this one is over. What are your thoughts? Let me know! As usual, many thanks to**

 **EmlynMara**

 **Maggs**

 **Kss**

 **Jansfamily4**

 **Deanna27**

 **Christinebj**

 **BookloverT17**

 **MissThang22700**

 **Motherof8**

 **Gaskellian**

 **for all the kind words! I love reading your guesses about the future of our beloved characters, the universal disapproval for Aunt Ellen and specially the excitement for the sequel! I am very lucky you have all stood by this story for as long as you have. Please keep reading and reviewing, I love all the responses I get. Fingers crossed you enjoyed this chapter, the angst has been away for so long and I knew we needed one last heavy chapter before the ending could happen. Not much left in the story now, but you know me - I always like to mess around when you think you know where it's going. Much love and see you all very very soon xxxx**


	62. Chapter 62

It was late afternoon before either Richard or Diana left their bedroom. Diana did not know what Richard had told the servants – because she doubted none of them had heard her screaming the night before – but the house was oddly hushed as she went from sitting-room to dining-room to the upstairs bedrooms. She had told the servants to prepare for the arrival of Lord Fitzwilliam, Henry, and possibly Darcy as well, but had not been to check their work until a few hours before they were due to arrive. Fortunately, nothing was out of order, and she was quite willing to spend the rest of her day in the parlour reading a book with her husband by her side.

And Richard seemed very anxious to stay by her side as well. She had no doubt that he was still worried, but she made it a point to keep herself as serene as possible. True, she held his hand slightly tighter than necessary, and made no complaint when he showed her more affection than she normally allowed outside of their bedroom, but other than that she worked very hard to act as though the previous night had never happened. She was quite sure it had been working as well, until they were both in their room as she got ready to receive their guests.

"Are you alright?" asked Richard. He was leaning against the bedpost, watching her as she brushed out her hair and prepared to do it up again. Sarah had been dismissed after she had delivered her mistress' clothes, and Richard was sure that was because Diana wanted to give her as much time with John as she could, before he departed as well. It was kind of her.

"Of course," Diana smiled at him through her mirror. The bags under her eyes did not reassure him, but her smile was still the same, and that was somewhat comforting. "You can go down and wait, if you like. I shan't be a moment."

"I'd rather stay," answered Richard. Diana shrugged, returning to her hair. It was twisted and braided soon enough, and she stood up to reach for her shawl, ready to accompany him downstairs. As she did, however, her eyes fell on something at her desk, and she paused. Richard frowned. "Diana?"

"I'd forgot about that," she said absently. Ignoring his confusion, she drifted to the table and picked up the plain, brown package lying on it. "Sarah must have found it in my trunk."

"What is it?" he asked, coming to stand behind her. The wrapped parcel was completely inconspicuous, and could have been easily overlooked no matter where it had been placed. When she did not answer, he persisted. "Did you need something?"

Diana shook her head. "Oh, no. This is yours. I wanted to give it to you over Christmas, but it must have slipped my mind."

"Yes, there were quite a few things on our mind during that time," said Richard dryly. He tapped the side of the package with his finger. "Won't you open it?"

Diana blinked, then put it back on her desk. "Well, you can open it yourself. It is for you, after all," she was backing away towards the door as she spoke.

Richard raised his eyebrows. "You do not want to stay while I do so?"

Diana shook her head, eyes trained on the floor. It took Richard a few seconds to realize she was blushing, clearly from embarrassment. "I really should –"

"Stop," he reached out a hand and grabbed her easily, tugging her back to his side as he picked up the parcel with the other hand. Diana protested, but her words were soft, and Richard had no difficulty in seating her down at the desk as he stood next to her. He kissed the top of her head, ignoring her mutterings and bright red cheeks, as he turned to the package.

He unwrapped it carefully, and uncovered a box engraved with the mark of a famous jeweller in London, which caused him to raise his eyebrows. "I thought it was I who had expensive taste, my dear."

"I did not _buy_ anything," muttered Diana. "Just get on with it."

Richard chuckled and opened the box obediently. There was something wrapped in black velvet inside, but the silver glint peeking from a corner gave him an excellent idea of what it was.

"Diana…" gently, he extracted her father's pocket-watch from the folds, restored to look like new, and with a sturdier chain attached to it as well. He ran his thumb over the engraving slowly, the memory of doing the same thing whilst away on the continent still strong in his mind. "This was yours, my love. I gave it back to you."

"I know," she rested her hand on top of his, tracing the intricate design on the watch with the tip of her finger. "I gave it to you last time for good luck, do you remember?"

"When I was going to ask for your mother's permission, yes."

"I suppose it didn't work very well that time," said Diana, a smile in her voice. "But I would like for you to keep it, regardless. An old memory can be replaced with a happier one."

"And it is an easy way to make sure I come back," teased Richard. He flipped over the watch and noted that the false back, which had hidden a miniature of his wife, had not been sealed. Hopefully, he could find something of hers to replace it. "I would never dare to stay away for too long if I am to keep this."

"See that you do not," said Diana, squeezing his hand. "That is not all, however." At his look, she took the device from his hand, only to open it from the back and reveal the same crevice he had been thinking about. It was not empty – there was a square of black leather perfectly fitted inside, housing the miniature of a familiar face.

For a moment, Richard was confused. Diana's old miniature had looked exactly like her, but a her from many years ago. Despite its size and slightly formal pose, her girlish charm had been captured quite well. She had worn black in that, and her dark hair had been coiled around her head to offset her pale skin. It had been an eye-catching portrait, and one that he had kept close for years.

The one he now held in his hand, however, was quite different. This was not the Diana from the old miniature, or the Diana in the formal portrait that hung in the home she had shared with Rupert Herbert. The Diana in this miniature was _his_ Diana. Her hair was loose and tumbling down one shoulder in messy curls, her eyes were bright and her mouth was quirked up in a small smile, the kind of smile that he had only seen her give a few people since the first time he had met her. It was _his_ smile.

Tiny details in the picture showed him that it had been specifically painted with the intent to give to him. Her left hand had been placed strategically over her heart and on her third finger there was a small spot of white, as if the light was reflecting off her engagement ring. Her head was tilted to the side slightly, but just enough so that the swipe of gold by her hair told him that she was meant to be wearing the earrings he had given her. Only the shoulders of her dress were visible, but they were painted the same blue as her eyes, his favourite colour on her.

Richard's eyes had widened with each detail he had observed, until they finally looked as though they were bogging out of his eyes. "How did you –"

"When we were at dinner with the Harts, the Colonel mentioned that you would stare at my picture when Cecelia tried to make you talk about women," said Diana. Richard shifted his gaze from the miniature to look at her incredulously. She shrugged, the light blush gracing her cheeks darkening as she turned her eyes away shyly. "I had almost forgotten that I gave you that old miniature, you know. When I was thinking of what to give you when you went away, your mother suggested a lock of my hair or something akin to it, but I thought you might like this better. It is such a vain gift, I know, but I could not think of anything else. My old portrait master did it for me in less than a week, but the jeweller said it would take a while to repair the watch and size the picture, so I had to wait until –"

"Quiet," interrupted Richard. He turned back to the picture. He could not bring himself to look away from it for long, almost afraid that it would vanish.

Diana rested her head against his arm, jerking him out of his thoughts. "Do you like it?"

 _"That_ is an understatement, my love."

"I know it seems silly," shrugged Diana. "But I did not want you to forget my face, no matter where you go or what happens."

Her words finally got his attention, and he sighed. Richard put the box back onto the table, making a mental note to ensure his valet laid out the watch with his uniform for his departure. He caressed Diana's face softly, slightly relieved to note she was not crying, not yet at least. "I could never forget your face," he said quietly. "You are what I see when I think of home, Diana. You always have been."

That made her smile. She rested her cheek against his hand. "I'm never going to forget either," she said softly. "I have you on paper and in my mind's eye. You are everywhere I look, in any house I go to. I wish I could give you something to look forward to when you come back, but it will just be me, you know."

"I cannot think of anything better to come home to, my love."

Diana smiled sadly. "I can."

 **!**

Diana was not surprised to see Darcy walk in with Lord Fitzwilliam and Henry when the guests were announced, but she _was_ surprised to see Elizabeth with them. In the bustle of activity that followed after their arrival, however, she did not have a chance to show how surprised she was. When dinner had been served and Richard and Darcy were in a heated debate over something nobody else seemed to understand – Lord Fitzwilliam was not even listening, and Henry was watching them with eyes that were wide with incomprehension –Diana finally got a chance to ask her what had made her decide to come.

"Oh," Elizabeth shrugged, and her careless act immediately told Diana that whatever she was about to tell her was a complete lie. "Fitzwilliam wants to stay on for a few days after Richard leaves and thought I might enjoy doing some shopping."

Diana raised her eyebrows. "Shopping? At this time of the year?"

"Well, yes," Elizabeth turned back to her soup.

Diana persisted. "The season has not even begun. None of the fashions will be new enough for you to wear when it does."

"Ah yes, I must admit I do not know the first thing about fashion in London. I do not suppose you'd be willing to accompany me?"

"My mother-in-law sent you, didn't she?" accused Diana. Elizabeth bit her lip, but she was smiling slightly. Diana sighed. "Of course she did. She's kept Georgiana and she's sent you here to babysit me!"

"She is only worried," said Elizabeth, patting Diana's shoulder comfortingly. "She thought I may be the best to aid you. She is convinced you will not show her or Emily how distressed you will truly be once Richard leaves."

"Oh, this is embarrassing," sighed Diana. "Must everyone treat me as though I cannot live without him?"

"Can you?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"You do."

"I cannot undo my marriage, and why would I even want to?"

"No, I meant you could have asked him to stay," said Elizabeth. Diana's hand stilled against her plate. Again, she felt Elizabeth touch her shoulder. "He would have stayed if you'd asked him."

"I know," she let out a shaky breath. "Of course he would have. But he would resent me for it one day. I cannot add more to that list."

"List?" Elizabeth frowned, and then her eyes lit up in understanding. "Oh, Diana, you cannot think –"

"I think we should leave the gentlemen now," said Diana abruptly. She pushed her plate away and stood, but Richard was too wrapped up with his cousin to notice her departure. She caught Henry looking at her strangely, but merely waved in response and hurried to the sitting-room. Elizabeth followed her quietly, but as soon as they were alone she turned to her with a look in her eye that told Diana she was about to find out why Richard was always joking that Darcy did not want to ever distress his wife.

* * *

 **Am I just dragging this on for as long as possible because I don't want it to end?**

 **Special thanks to:**

 **Gaskellian**

 **Motherof8**

 **BlackWings-of-Purity**

 **Deanna27**

 **MissThang22700**

 **Maggs**

 **Jansfamily4**

 **Kss**

 **Mpf2741**

 **Drsuebee**

 **KurukiXV**

 **I'll be back soon! Much love xxxx**


	63. Chapter 63

"The bags under your eyes say that married life suits you, brother," chortled Henry, waving his glass around a little recklessly. Richard rolled his eyes and kicked his brother's shin, but otherwise did not say anything. Darcy merely snorted. Lord Fitzwilliam had retired when Henry was on his third drink, his elder son's humour becoming decidedly uncouth as the night progressed. Richard and Darcy were used to Henry's ways, however. He indulged in alcohol so rarely that it was almost comical to witness his inebriated state.

"Of course, Diana is my sister," continued Henry, setting the glass down carefully and watching it critically, as if he expected it to move. "And I would _never_ presume to be vulgar, but I must say –"

"Your every word grows decidedly more unrefined despite your protests, Henry," cut in Darcy dryly. "Perhaps you ought to retire."

Henry sniffed. "You're just jealous, _Fitz."_

Darcy narrowed his eyes. _"What_ did you just call me?"

 _"Fitz,"_ said Henry, almost spitting at the last letter. He chucked manically when Darcy tried to kick his shin, but missed. "Just like that awful governess from when we were children! Do you remember? She _insisted_ the reason you were so quiet was because your name was much too _heavy."_

Richard snorted. "Damn, I remember that summer. Darcy, you absolutely loathed her."

"You put toads in her desk!" cackled Henry.

"And didn't she complain to your father that you ought to spend less time reading?" Richard ignored his brother and chuckled at the memory.

Darcy rolled his eyes. "I see the drink has not altered your memories."

"On the contrary, drink enhances my memories of our embarrassing childhoods," Richard raised his glass cheekily.

Darcy raised an eyebrow. "I assure you, cousin, I do not need any help recalling _your_ worst moments. Either of you," he added to Henry.

"Name one," snorted Henry.

Darcy did not even hesitate. "You fell off your horse when you were ten and refused to get on again until the priest came over and prayed to remove the demon spirit from the animal."

Henry opened his mouth to argue, then shut it resignedly. "I admit defeat," he sighed.

Richard's eyes twinkled. "And me, Darcy?"

"You are shameless enough without my reminders," Darcy rolled his eyes.

"No, I insist," Richard laughed. "What do you remember of me?"

"Off the top of my head?" an uncharacteristic smirk made its way onto Darcy's face. "I recall a certain dinner at the Wolstein's, where a pretty young girl who had accompanied us spent the entire evening hanging onto the words of their son, which in turn caused you to return to Fitzwilliam House and break the priceless china vase that had been sitting on the mantelpiece _since before you were born!"_ he put on a high voice at the end, and Henry burst into hysterical laughter, obviously finding the rather bland impersonation of Lady Fitzwilliam hilarious.

Richard blinked. Darcy looked smug and Henry reigned in his laughter long enough to remind them, "Mother said that would be the last time she left the three of us alone together."

"I seem to remember threats to make us sleep in the greenhouses as well," mused Darcy. "Well, what say you, cousin?" he turned to Richard. "Have I satisfied you?"

Regaining his composure, Richard sniffed. "I suppose it was not one of my finest moments."

"I do believe you turned green that day, Richard," snorted Darcy.

"It's true," added Henry. "Really, you were so blind. We all knew the poor sod had no chance, Diana only gave him the time of day because he enchanted her with stories about Paris. _I_ could start talking about that city and she'd hang onto my every word too."

"And we all know what an excellent conversationalist Henry is," added Darcy slyly.

It took a few seconds before Henry understood what had been said. When he did, however, he narrowed his eyes. "I heard that!"

"I see your hearing is not affected yet. Bravo!"

Richard rolled his eyes. "When did _you_ two start acting like children?"

"We'll need to make up for your absence, won't we?" Henry clambered up from his seat, reaching for the open bottle of whiskey. "Another drink before we join the ladies?"

"I do not think –" began Darcy.

Richard cut him off. "He'll be asleep by the time the glass is finished," he muttered, handing over the bottle. "Wait for the snores and we can make our escape."

Darcy chuckled.

 **!**

"You didn't tell him?!"

Diana winced. "You make it sound like a bad thing."

"He should know how much his leaving upsets you!" protested Elizabeth. "You dreamt of his funeral! That speaks to volumes of bad luck."

"Oh, don't be so superstitious."

"He should know," said Elizabeth defiantly.

"But I don't want him thinking about how miserable I am when he's away at war, Elizabeth," said Diana patiently. She had justified her own actions to herself in her mind so often that her words came out quite convincingly when she spoke to someone else. "He says he will come back. I can only trust that he will."

Elizabeth bit her lip. "I can't bear to let Fitzwilliam leave for a weekend to London," she confessed, almost guiltily. "I do not understand how you are doing this, Diana, and that too so calmly."

"I did scream bloody murder last night and dreamt about my husband in a coffin," Diana reminded her. "That is hardly what I would call _calm."_

"You haven't begged him to stay yet."

"And I never will. He knows that."

"But _why?"_

"Because he needs this," she shrugged. "I am not a selfless woman. If I knew that keeping him here would not alter our relationship completely, I would do it. I am not a selfish woman either, but I am a clever one, Elizabeth. Sending my husband away to war because he _wants_ to go is the only way I can be sure he wants me as well."

Elizabeth pursed her lips. "You two play games with each other," she murmured. "I do not like it, Diana."

"It isn't a game," Diana shook her head. "I am realistic. You forget I have known Richard for many years. When you are friends with a man, and when you both think nothing more will come of it, you say things you ordinarily would not say to someone you plan to marry. If I had started out as Richard's potential fiancé, I doubt he would ever have told me that he is extremely insecure whenever Henry is around, because his brother makes him feel useless and frivolous. Now I know that is not true," she added, when Elizabeth looked surprised. "But I understand his perspective. Henry is the older son, and he has been trained to fulfil all such responsibilities. Richard has been left to do as he pleases, so why should he not? You and I think nothing of it, and perhaps Richard would not either if he was a different kind of man, but he is not. He needs something to do that will benefit someone _other_ than him. It's why he joined the army, and it's why I need to let him go. He will resent me for the rest of his life if he stays."

"I think you doubt his love for you if you think that," said Elizabeth softly. "But if you feel that you will be strong enough to overcome any difficulties, I am proud of you."

Diana did not need to ask her what difficulties she meant. They both knew what the worst ending could be to the whole affair, there was no need to say it. "It is his love for me that makes me do this," sighed Diana. "He loves me so much, Elizabeth. I never realized how much until after he married me. But he does, and I cannot bring myself to deny him this. I cannot _know_ that I have this power over him, and use it, and then have it end in a way that would leave us both miserable."

Elizabeth patted her hand sympathetically. "Forgive me, I did not mean to distress you or question you. I suppose imagining a world without Richard Fitzwilliam in it is simply unfathomable for me," she smiled wryly.

Diana laughed quietly. "Oh, my dear, how can I even consider what you are saying? He _is_ my whole world."

"And I am sure that is why he will come back unharmed," said Elizabeth soothingly. "He has something to fight for, and someone who will be waiting for him, after all. They say for some soldiers, that is all they need."

Diana did not have an opportunity to answer, because the door to the adjoining room opened and Richard and Darcy walked in. Their expressions gave no indication they had heard any conversation from the room, but Diana schooled her features nonetheless. The last thing she wanted was for Richard to learn how upset she was the night before he left.

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. "What have you two done with the viscount?"

"Left him to sleep in a rather uncomfortable chair by a dying fire," chuckled Richard. He sank onto the chair next to Diana's, reaching for her hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. Diana smiled, and did not pull away her hand when he turned to address Elizabeth again. "It is in all our best interests if my brother goes to sleep, I assure you."

"I begin to worry about your state as well, Richard," noted Darcy. He was still smiling, but his tone was warning. "If you do not plan to retire soon, I would suggest water for the rest of the evening."

"Yes, I think I shall take that," said Diana firmly, plucking Richard's glass from his hand and putting it on the floor at her feet. When he bent to pick it up, she pinched him. "Don't you dare. I will not have you go to war with a headache."

Richard rolled his eyes, but left the glass on the floor nevertheless. Darcy chose that moment to slyly comment on his cousin's status as a married man completely under the control of his wife, causing Richard to utter a retort that made Elizabeth let out a very unladylike snort and Diana to slap his shoulder in reprimand.

"Behave," she cautioned, when he turned to look at her with an affronted expression. "Did you tell John when you would need the carriage?"

"At the crack of dawn, my dear. I could not be more specific than that," said Richard. "Have you managed to convince Sarah no one will be dying on this trip?"

"Do not jest," muttered Diana. "She is much calmer than I expected. I am worried about her."

"I am sure she understands that nothing bad would happen," said Richard soothingly. "The war is as good as over, anyway. Isn't that right, Darcy?"

"Of course," said Darcy immediately. Diana raised her eyebrows at him, and he blinked. "That is to say, it is much less dangerous on the front now than it was six months ago."

"There, you see?" Richard squeezed her hand.

Diana was not reassured. "Tell me, Mr. Darcy, did my husband instruct you just before entering this room to go along with every ridiculous reason he makes up for me to not worry? Or was that your own initiative?"

Richard sighed. Darcy cracked a smile. Next to him, Elizabeth laughed quietly. He threw his wife a fond look before turning his gaze to Diana, slightly sheepish. "I apologize, Diana."

"Oh, I am not angry at you," reassured Diana. Without looking, she swatted Richard on the arm, causing him to swear. _"That_ is for telling everyone to keep feeding me rubbish," she scolded, glaring at him. "First your mother sends poor Elizabeth down to London to make sure I am alright, and now you tell Darcy to treat me like a child!"

"I am only trying to make sure you do not worry!" protested Richard. "Will you stop hitting me now?"

"I will hit you if you deserve it," sniffed Diana. "I would rather know exactly what is happening around me. And I am _well-_ aware of the dangers of war, Richard. You have gone away once before, you know."

"Yes, but that was when…" he trailed off, giving her a pointed look. Darcy coughed awkwardly. "That was different, Diana."

"Only in the sense that _then_ I had to scour newspapers myself and hope Aunt Ellen would tell me something useful," Diana rolled her eyes. "At least now I will not have to scavenge for information."

"I think she's right," offered Elizabeth. Richard gave her a look of betrayal, and she hid a smile behind her hand. "She only wants to know the truth, Richard. You know how important that is in marriage."

Diana avoided her eye as Richard chuckled. "Hear, hear, Mrs. Darcy! I would raise a glass to you, but my wife has confiscated it."

"You get more ridiculous by the minute," Diana rolled her eyes. "Darcy is right. Retiring sounds like a good idea."

Darcy nodded. "I believe we shall retire as well, the journey was far from comfortable."

"Someone ought to wake the viscount," said Elizabeth pointedly.

Darcy snorted. "It will not be me."

"Leave him," Richard waved a hand lazily. "We will see you both in the morning."

The Darcys bid them good night and left the room, speaking in quiet voices. Diana threw Richard a look when they had gone. "You better actually be planning to wake Henry, Richard."

Richard pouted. "Do I have to?"

"Yes," Diana kissed his cheek. "I am going upstairs. Hurry, please."

"That sounds like an invitation," Richard grabbed her hand as she stood to leave, tugging her back down to his level. "Or am I being too forward?"

Diana resisted the urge to smile. "This feels quite forward already," she said, indicating the way he was holding her arm.

Richard smirked and tugged again, this time succeeding in pulling her down onto his lap. Grinning wickedly, he kissed her jaw. "I suspect this is very forward as well," he murmured against her skin, his hand digging into her waist and causing her to purse her lips to avoid making an embarrassing sound.

"Very forward," she agreed, rather breathlessly. Not to be outdone, however, Diana nuzzled his neck and inched her hand up his chest. Her fingers slipped under the collar of his shirt, and she pulled it down slightly to press a kiss to his throat. She heard Richard's breath hitch, and smirked triumphantly. "Is this too much?" she asked innocently.

Richard cleared his throat. "It feels like an invitation," he said pointedly. Diana hummed in response, kissing his neck again. He pinched her waist. "You are teasing me."

"I am not. It is very much an invitation," she assured him. She looked up, just in time to see his eyes glinting hungrily, and her lips twitched. "But there is a catch."

"What is it?" he inched closer, his eyes zeroed in on her lips. "You need only ask, my love."

"Anything I ask for?" Diana fluttered her eyelashes temptingly. If she was exaggerating in her actions, she could not tell; Richard seemed to be enjoying them either way.

"Anything," he promised. He was still staring at her mouth.

"Good," Diana closed the distance between them and kissed him slowly, enjoying the feeling of her husband's lips against her own. She felt him bunch up her dress in his fists as he pulled her closer, clearly enjoying the way she was situated on his lap. Suspecting that they would never get to bed if he got his way, Diana forced herself to pull back much sooner than she wanted to. At his expression of annoyance, she winked. "It is an invitation dependent upon whether you actually help you brother to bed or not."

Richard scowled, and Diana giggled as she blew him a kiss and left the room.

* * *

 **Hello, my friends! I haven't forgotten about you, third year uni is kicking my butt and making me question my life choices, but here I am again. Many thanks to the loyal reviewers who sent so many encouraging words last chapter, I hope to hear from you all again soon:**

 **Christine**

 **Amidarcy**

 **KurukiXV**

 **Mpf2741**

 **EmlynMara**

 **Gaskellian**

 **Jasnfamily4**

 **Motherof8**

 **MissThang22700**

 **Deanna27**

 **Maggs**

 **I understand this chapter is slightly filler-y but I really wanted to write about the Henry-Darcy-Richard friendship triangle, I feel like it's never explored enough in other stories and my work is first and foremost a family drama, after all (all the romance is just a plus, also who doesn't enjoy how much the Fitzwilliams love Diana?).**

 **I hope to finish this story before Christmas, which will give me enough time to outline a sequel and set to writing that in time for publishing some time after the New Year. I will try to be better with my updates but I can't promise anything. However, IF IF IF I end up taking a longer break before the sequel I will make up for it with some one-shots based around the time Diana and Richard first met, so put me on Author Alert if you haven't already in anticipation for those (and let me know if there are any scenes you're keen to read about firsthand!).**

 **That's all for now, this AN is getting long enough. See you all very very soon, and thank you for all the encouragement. Much love xxx**


	64. Chapter 64

_"What are you doing?"_

 _"As if you care."_

 _"That's not very nice," rolling his eyes, Richard picked up an apple from the fruit bowl in front of Diana and tossed it into the air. "Must you be so dramatic?"_

 _"Must you be so tiresome?" she shot back. Eyes glinting with annoyance, she ignored his presence completely and returned to her sketch, pressing the charcoal onto the page with perhaps more force than necessary. Fortunately, she had already drawn the apple that Richard had picked out of her arrangement, so there was no need to look at him._

 _"They do say familiarity breeds contempt," said Richard musingly. "Is this the price I pay for our friendship?" Without invitation, he sank down into the garden chair next to Diana's._

 _"Friendship!" Diana scoffed. "Friends do not do what you did yesterday, Richard Fitzwilliam."_

 _"What did I do?" he sounded aghast. "Did you want to dance with the viscount?"_

 _"I was introduced to him with the sole purpose of dancing with him, you idiot, and he was absolutely besotted with me until you dragged him away for a pleasant conversation."_

 _"I told him nothing he would not have found out eventually."_

 _Diana's fingers dug into the charcoal until it gathered under her nails. "He would have found out something, of course, because_ I _would have let something slip after a dance or two," hissed Diana. She heard Richard's sharp intake of breath at her words. Ah, so he_ had _known what he was doing. "I just needed mother to see him ask me twice, and you_ knew _that."_

 _Richard cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, I saw that he was getting too forward and knew I had to step in."_

 _It was a weak defence. Diana snorted. "And Miss Olivia Holt practically fainting in your arms last night was not forward, I suppose?"_

 _In a trice, Richard went from sounding guilty to smug. "Ah, jealous, were we?"_

 _"Oh, yes._ I _am the jealous one, just as_ you _scaring off the viscount was pure chivalry," Diana rolled her eyes. "I had to hear about letting go of a potential match the whole evening, Richard."_

 _"If it makes you feel better, Miss Holt fainted in my arms and then in the arms of Sir Henry as well," said Richard dryly. "I had to hear about catching another man's match the whole evening."_

 _Despite herself, Diana smiled. Staying angry at Richard had never been possible for her. Reluctantly, she put down her drawing materials and turned to give him her full attention. And that was when she noticed the flowers._

 _"What is this?" she asked, too surprised to move. It was a pretty bouquet of yellow roses dotted with baby's breath, all tied together with dark pink ribbon. It was simple and girlish, very much to her tastes. And completely unexpected._

 _Richard merely raised an eyebrow and offered her the bouquet without explanation. Dumbfounded, Diana accepted it, and he bowed his head in return. "I ruined your evening," he said, and he sounded guilty again. "Though I did not mean to, I knew you were cross."_

 _Diana blinked, and then schooled her expression as Richard glanced up at her. It would not do for him to see the excited smile that was threatening to overtake her face. "And I had good reason to be, of course."_

 _"You did," he admitted, but now he was smiling again. "But are you still upset?"_

 _Diana fingered the silky petals of the flowers. She did not answer. "Yellow?" she asked instead._

 _Richard snorted. "I know you prefer red, but would your mother have let me enter if I had arrived carrying those?"_

 _Diana smiled a little. "Probably not, unless you inherited a fortune overnight."_

 _"No," to her surprise, he reached forward and squeezed her free hand. "I did not mean to upset you, Diana. The things I do may distress you, but I_ am _your friend. I hope you can trust me on that, if nothing else."_

 _Diana was touched. Shyly, she linked his fingers with her own, but sniffed to conceal her emotions. "Well, as lovely as these are, you will still have to make it up to me properly."_

 _"Of course," Richard chuckled. "Shall I keep my card empty at Almack's next time in case you need to avoid a suitor?"_

 _Diana wrinkled her nose. "Well, it isn't any fun now that I know you actually like dancing with me."_

 _"The offer is still open," now that he knew he was forgiven, Richard leaned back and plucked her sketchbook from her hands. Diana made no move to stop him as he flicked through it. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly at her drawings. "Fruit-bowls and trees and sunsets. Why won't you try faces?"_

 _"Mother says it is unbecoming for a woman to draw portraits," Diana rolled her eyes._

 _"Not if you start with a pretty face," Richard winked._

 _Diana was unaffected. "Will you let me try drawing yours then?"_

 _Richard snorted. "You could never do this face justice."_

 _"But would you let me try?"_

 _"I would rather find a way to convince your mother to let you have proper lessons," Richard closed her sketchbook and handed it back to her._

 _Diana shook her head. "You never will. And I am too old for a drawing-master."_

 _"Nonsense," Richard said dismissively. "The more tutors you have, the more likely you are to end up an accomplished woman. Titled men love that sort of thing, so your mamma cannot disapprove. Will that suffice as an apology?"_

 _Diana smiled. "Only if you actually say the words this time."_

 _Richard frowned. "Don't be childish, Diana."_

 _"Please?" she spoke breathlessly and fluttered her eyelashes, doing a perfect imitation of the girls she always made fun of after attending a ball._

 _Richard groaned. "Fine, I am_ sorry. _Are you happy now, Diana?"_

"Diana?"

Jerked out of her memories, Diana looked up from a slightly tattered drawing of a fruit-bowl. Her eyes readjusted and she looked around, spotting her husband watching her with an odd look on his face. Realizing that she was indeed in the present, and not ten years in the past, Diana offered Richard a small smile. He smiled back, but looked worried. "Did you not hear me?" he asked gently.

Diana shook her head and held up the picture as an excuse. "I was daydreaming," she explained. She put the drawing down and turned to face him as he entered their bedroom. "Did you put Henry in his room?"

"Safe and sound," Richard closed the door behind them and came to stand beside her, picking up the drawing curiously. "I have not seen you draw a fruit-bowl in years."

"That was the last one I drew, dear," Diana smiled. "You convinced my mother to let me have lessons the very same day."

Richard's eyes lit up with recognition. "Ah, then this must be from the day I apologized for ruining your chances with that viscount."

Diana rolled her eyes and smacked his arm. "I did not want a chance with him, Richard."

"I should hope not, the man was a joke," Richard snorted. "Why were you looking at this? Do you keep all your old drawings?"

"Most of them," Diana opened the leather-bound folder she had been flipping through and indicated for Richard to put the drawing back between the delicate folds of tissue paper, to prevent the charcoal from smudging. "I was looking for something else and I found this one."

"What was it?"

"I remembered that you would never let me draw your face," she smiled at his grimace. "But I did once, a few weeks after I started lessons."

Richard raised his eyebrows. "You never told me that."

Diana shrugged. "I never thought it was any good, I did it all from memory. I just thought it would be funny to show you now, but I can't seem to find it."

"I'd like to see it, but I would also like to lie down," Richard picked up the folder and carried it to the bed, and Diana followed with another one. He stifled a yawn behind his hand, and waved away her concern. "Never mind. I did not plan to sleep, I assure you."

"I was not going to let you," she teased. She sat down cross-legged on the bed and began to flip through her drawings idly, as Richard prepared for bed. As he washed his face he noticed his uniform hanging in the dressing-room, with his freshly-polished boots on the floor and the pocket-watch resting next to his belt. Trying not to stop and stare at the obvious hints towards his departure, he forced some false cheer into his voice and went to sit down next to Diana, noting the drawing she was currently examining.

"I sincerely hope that is not me," he frowned.

Diana laughed. "Not at all. It is Emily's father, he was quite good at drawing and used to look at my work sometimes."

Richard squinted, and indeed began to see the resemblance between the distinguished-looking gentleman Diana had drawn and his own sister-in-law "Ah, I see it now. He was a good man."

Diana hummed in agreement, setting the drawing aside and pulling out another picture, this one of a scene done in watercolours. Richard spotted blurry figures in colourful dresses, a dog running after the small figure of a child, and a scattering of autumnal leaves on the ground. "Ah, this was that day in the park when you and Henry wouldn't let me draw."

"Didn't Henry used to say you ought to go out on your own if all you wanted to do was paint, rather than with us?"

"Mother hardly ever used to let me take walks unless someone was accompanying me," Diana rolled her eyes. "I barely got to _see_ the park unless your family were around to take me."

Richard grunted. "Your mother was truly a joy to be around."

"You did not have to live with her," Diana picked up another picture. "Look at this one," she held up a pencil sketch of a half-finished face, and Richard smiled. "Do you like it?" she asked eagerly.

"Wonderful. It looks recent," he took the picture of his mother's face out of her hands gently. "When did you do this?"

"Before Christmas," Diana rested her head against his shoulder. "I wanted to give you a few portraits of the rest of the family as well as my own, but I did not have time to complete any."

Richard was touched. "That is very thoughtful of you, my love," he kissed the top of her head. "But you could always send me some once I am away," he cleared his throat, hoping the hint was not too obvious.

Diana did not notice. "Hmm," distracted, she picked up another drawing. "When on earth did I do _this_ one?"

Richard chuckled at Diana's expression of genuine confusion at the sight of a rather well-made sketch of her mother's face, set in her usual expression of disdain. It was, like most of Diana's early work, done in pencil. "Ah, I remember this."

Diana shook her head. "I didn't think I'd ever drawn my mother."

"You did once," Richard took the drawing from her hands and pointed to a corner of the page, where a date some nine years previous was scribbled down. "You'd had lessons for a few months and you were slowly becoming known as being _adept_ at portraits, so she decided there was no longer any need for a tutor. You came to the house in a rage, threw a tantrum and nearly broke a teacup, if I recall, because she also insisting that as she had not seen any of your work, clearly there was no skill that needed to be nurtured," Diana scowled at the memory, and Richard laughed again. "You sat down in the parlour and drew a sketch of her in twenty minutes, and then stormed off back home to prove to her that you were good."

"I remember now. But I did not show it to her," Diana shuddered. "The portrait was too flattering, and Sarah caught me at the door and helped me see what an awful idea it would be. The poor dear was trying to be polite, but she knew as well as I did that it would be best if I let mother have her way," Diana sighed. "Your mamma came to see her after the drawing-master told her that it was a shame I no longer wanted lessons, and threatened to pay for them herself if he was dismissed on any basis other than my skills."

"I know," Richard said quietly. "I asked her to."

Diana turned to look at him, a small frown on her face. "You did?"

"Are you forgetting who you almost maimed when you threw the teacup, and who found you a sketchbook when you demanded drawing materials?" Richard raised an eyebrow. "I told mamma I was going to pay if money was a problem, and she said she ought to say it instead because your mother would have taken it better from her. We would have told you if it had come to that," he added hastily. "But your mother saw reason in the end."

"Oh," Diana settled back against his shoulder. "I didn't know you had done that."

Richard kissed the top of her head. "You were happy when your mother changed her mind, we did not see the need to tell you our part in it."

Oddly, Diana felt her eyes sting with tears at Richard's confession. The realization that he had been looking out for her, in his own way, for years even before he had fallen in love with her, was heart-warming. Unwilling to confess how emotional his simple story had made her, Diana cleared her throat. "I can't seem to find that picture of you, though, I am afraid."

"I'm sure you can do another one," said Richard. Diana felt his fingers wind through her hair lazily, tugging at a loose curl. "So you can draw me from memory?"

"Of course."

"How long have you been able to do that?"

"A long time," said Diana simply. "Though I would love to draw you properly, while you were in front of me. I always think I haven't gotten it quite right unless the person is there."

Richard smiled. "I am quite willing to try that when I come back."

"Yes," Diana said softly. "That would be nice."

Richard did not let the gloomy silence descend. It was as if he had decided that, by sheer force of will, there would be no sadness on his last night at home. Even as Diana silently turned on her side and buried her face into his chest in anticipation of tears she knew she could no longer control, he kept his tone uplifting. "It is only a few months. You will be glad to be rid of me, I think."

Diana sniffed. "Do not try to be funny."

"I'm sorry," he kissed her hair. "I will miss you terribly, you know."

"It is a small consolation."

"Time will pass for you. You will have Margaret and Henry to look after, my mother will do doubt ask you to help her redo some room in the house, Georgiana's coming out, Elizabeth's first season as Mrs. Darcy – you will hardly miss me, I am sure."

Diana snorted quietly at that and looked up at him. "Are you trying to reassure me or terrify me by listing my responsibilities?"

He caressed her cheek. "You can do no wrong in the eyes of my family, what do you have to fear?"

"Nothing from them," sighed Diana. "But who will hold me at night as I rant about how awful Lady someone-or-the-other was to me?"

Richard smiled. "You can write to me, you know."

"It won't be the same."

"But you will, yes?" why did he sound so worried. "Every so often?"

Diana frowned. "Of course. Did you think I would not?"

He shrugged, but as his eyes turned away she realized that he had indeed thought she would not. "I assumed you would, of course."

But his hasty reply only made her narrow her eyes. She sat up, giving him an accusatory look. "You thought I wouldn't write to you!"

"Of course not," he persisted. "I knew you would if I asked you!"

"You do not have to _ask_ me, I was going to do it anyway!"

"I know, I know," his tone was placating, and Diana was too tired to argue. Still glaring, she moved until she was once again curled up into his side, though she made sure she pinched him as she did. Richard grunted, entwining the fingers of both their hands together to ensure she would not do it again. "Minx."

"Dog."

"I love you too," grinning cheekily, Richard pressed a kiss to her forehead. "How shall we spend our last night together, then?"

"Talking," said Diana, as if it were obvious.

Richard cleared his throat. "Of course, yes."

Diana shot him a suspicious look. "Well, I won't hear your voice for months, clearly that's what we are going to do," she raised her eyebrows. "Did you have something else in mind?"

Completely lost as to what the appropriate response would be, Richard merely shook his head dumbly, not noticing the teasing glint in his wife's eyes. She lay back against his chest and continued to play with his fingers idly as he ventured a question, "And what would you like to talk about?"

"Oh, I don't know," Diana readjusted her head, and the neck of her nightgown dropped slightly at her movements, giving Richard a glimpse of her perfect, alabaster shoulder. "Tell me what you will do tomorrow."

"Simply board a ship and sail until we reach France," said Richard. He resisted the urge to ignore his wife's words completely and focus on her bare skin. "Nothing very interesting. There will be quite a few of us going, I think."

"Oh?" Richard had never before thought a monosyllabic word could make a woman sound so utterly desirable. Whether or not Diana was aware of the effect she was having on him, he could not be sure, and he was hesitant to initiate something lest she assume he would rather not talk to her. In fact, he _did_ want to speak to her. An eternity of hearing Diana's voice would be heavenly, though there were certain sounds she produced, that only he could elicit, particularly when he –

"Did you hear me, dear?"

"Hmm?" Richard blinked rapidly, forcing himself out of a highly pleasant fantasy. Diana was facing away from him now, watching him with a quirked eyebrow. Richard's eyes zeroed in on her shoulder again. Had she unbuttoned her gown? Surely that hadn't been an accident. Why, to gain access to _that_ amount of skin, he had to –

"Richard!"

"Sorry," Richard winced, but saw that Diana was giggling. "Can you blame a man for being dazed?"

"Dazed by what exactly?" asked Diana in amusement.

"Your beauty, of course."

"Charmer," she teased. Her fingers trailed up his arm slowly. "And I must say, Major General, your self-control tonight is astounding."

Richard cleared his throat. "Is it?" he tried to ignore how close Diana had suddenly come. Her eyes had darkened to a midnight blue, a colour that he particularly enjoyed on her. And she was licking her lips. Hadn't she wanted to _talk?_

"Quite," she murmured. He felt her eyelashes brush against his cheek as she kissed his jaw, moving down to nuzzle his neck. "Talking is a relative term, after all. There are many different ways to converse."

Richard felt as though his brain had melted. There was a lingering flash of warmth wherever his wife's skin touched his own; he was oblivious to anything else. "Are there?" he managed to ask.

"Yes," Diana caught his eye, and winked. "Shall I show you my favourite one?"

Richard's response was not in words. It was a significant amount of time before there was silence in the room: physical exhaustion prompted them to stop their _conversation_ rather than an exhaustion of topics. The candle had died hours ago, and the fire was crackling. Strangely, the darkness was comforting. Richard played with Diana's hair almost absently, relishing in her close proximity. If he was ever asked to picture heaven, he knew it would be the moment he was currently in. Diana arms were wrapped around his waist tightly as she curled up against his side. He could not see her face, but he knew she was awake.

"That was an interesting conversation," he said finally. "Of course, not exactly what I thought you had in mind, but nevertheless enjoyable."

"Well, I did not have it in mind until I saw you staring," Diana giggled. "I did not think a bare shoulder would be enough to do you in, Richard Fitzwilliam."

Richard snorted. _Of course_ she had done it on purpose. "One look from you is enough to do me in, love."

* * *

 **Second last chapter, this one. Oh, I'm getting emotional already - this story has been such a big part of my life for so long I almost don't know what I'll do once it's over (jk - I have a sequel to plan!). Maybe that's why I'm dragging it out (but so far none of you have complained so I hope my writing has done it justice!).**

 **The bit at the beginning is a flashback (if you hadn't already guessed). The spin-off I'm thinking of doing is going to be a little like this - same style, same tone, and a lot more pre-romance Diana/Richard. Of course, if you've been paying attention to their relationship now, even the friendship is going to be more intense than normal. I don't think Diana can do _un_ intense, and I don't think Richard would have fallen for her if she wasn't how she is now. ****If you have any more ideas about flashbacks, let me know what you'd like to see! I have a few planned, but I'm interested to know what bits the readers have picked up as significant moments in their past.**

 **A lot of the reviews have talked about the war ending before sunrise so Richard can stay back - sorry guys! The war is happening, and he is indeed leaving. The sequel is going to be about their separation, how they handle it, and what challenges they both face, and it'll end with their reunion, in whatever shape or form it may be. It won't be 60 chapters of them being alone though - I'd miss writing them both together too much! Also, I loved the response I got for the Henry/Richard/Darcy scene. I didn't think I'd enjoy writing it as much as I did, so that's another reason to look forward to flashbacks!**

 **Many thanks to the reviews I received last time:**

 **Motherof8**

 **Amidarcy**

 **Gaskellian**

 **Deanna27**

 **Jansfamily4**

 **mags**

 **MissThang22700**

 **LitEnthused**

 **HarnGin**

 **KurukiXV**

 **EmlynMara**


	65. Chapter 65

The morning dawned dull and rainy, erasing all traces of snow and drowning the streets of London in slush. Diana sat at the window and watched the rain fall blankly, wrapped up in a shawl. Dimly, she was aware of Richard having a whispered conversation with his valet in his dressing-room. They had both woken at almost the exact same time, unaware that they had even fallen asleep until Diana had quietly pointed out the light outside their window.

She was doing an excellent job at keeping her mind blank. She refused to allow her thoughts to wander, and instead counted the number of people passing below her window. She quickly gave up when she realized few people would be awake at this hour, and began to count the petals of the flowers on the creeping vine along the wall of the house. It was a better task, as it required a certain amount of concentration to keep track of fluttering petals due to the wind and rain. She was so absorbed in her task she did not even realize Richard was watching her until she heard the door close as the valet left the room.

His face was impassive. She tried to smile. "Good morning," she said, for a lack of better things to say.

Richard did not answer, merely came to sit next to her. He drew an arm around her shoulders, and Diana curled up into his side gratefully. She would not think about how long it would be before she could do this again. "What were you doing?" he asked quietly. She felt his lips touch her hair.

"Counting petals," Diana answered truthfully.

Richard chuckled. "Dare I ask why?"

"Don't," she sighed. "Have you checked everything?"

"Yes," he rested his cheek against the top of her head. "John is already waiting by the carriage."

"So soon?" automatically, her hands gripped the sleeves of his coat. Diana blinked when she realized he was wearing his uniform already. "And when did you get dressed?"

"While you were counting petals," teased Richard. "We need to be at the docks soon, my love."

"Oh," was all she could say. In the back of her mind, Diana registered that she needed to let him go, so they could get up and leave the room. However, her hands seemed unwilling to cooperate.

Richard's hands touched her fingers gently. "Diana?"

"Sorry," she mumbled. She released his arm and stood up, smoothing the wrinkles in her dress and giving him a small smile. She held out a hand. "Breakfast?"

"Of course," Richard accepted her hand and they left the room.

Outside the door, Sarah was waiting, neatly dressed though with slightly red eyes. However, she smiled and bobbed her head at Richard. "Safe travels, Major General," she murmured.

Richard smiled and patted her shoulder. "Thank you. Look after your mistress for me, Sarah."

"Of course," Sarah smiled. "You come back to us soon, sir."

Richard nodded and Diana squeezed his arm, giving Sarah a grateful look. Her maid smiled at her sympathetically and went into the bedroom, no doubt the begin tidying. The day would go on, Diana realized dimly as Richard guided her down the stairs. It was barely dawn: everyone's lives would progress and move forward as if nothing had happened, as if no earth-shattering event had taken place.

So why did she feel as though her very reason to be was slipping away?

"Major General," the Fitzwilliam House butler, Stevens, bowed from his place by the doors of the dining-room. He had looked after the house for years, starting as a footman when Lord Fitzwilliam had been a child. "We wish you a speedy return, sir. Permit me to express how proud we all are of you."

Diana smiled at the old man's words. Richard extracted himself from her grip gently, and Diana willingly stepped back, watching fondly as Richard shook Stevens hand, and then pulled the older man in for a strong embrace. As they pulled back, she saw tear-tracks on Steven's cheeks.

Darcy and Elizabeth were seated at the breakfast table, untouched plates in front of them. Lord Fitzwilliam was sipping a cup of tea, and all three of them stood up expectantly as Richard and Diana entered the room. Henry was merely standing by a window, watching the servants hover around the carriage with an absent expression on his face. No words were exchanged: Elizabeth came to Diana's side and squeezed her arm, while Darcy handed Richard a slice of toast in a napkin, and a thermos of tea.

"We need to get going, I am afraid," said Lord Fitzwilliam quietly. "Diana, my dear, will you be joining us?" Diana nodded. "Very well. You two take my carriage, we will ride with the Darcys," said Lord Fitzwilliam. Clearing his throat briskly, he exited the room. Diana did not have to look at Richard's face to know that he was concerned.

"Don't worry," Henry spoke finally. "The docks are about a half hour away, if there isn't a crowd headed in that direction. And the servants are waiting to say goodbye, Richard."

"Of course," Richard fiddled with his coat, his movements slightly anxious. Diana swatted his hands away and straightened the material herself, offering him a small smile of support when she caught his eye. He touched her cheek affectionately, and Diana was suddenly aware of movement as the last occupants of the room exited.

"Well, this is it," said Diana softly. She tried to keep smiling. "No more luxuries for a while, Major General."

"I suppose not," Richard smiled back. "Though the loss of a cook is the least of my worries."

"Are you worried about us?" she asked gently. Richard shrugged. Diana drew her arms around him, attempting to offer comfort in the only way she could. "Your safe return is all you should be worried about, my love. That is all any of us want."

Richard sighed, and kissed the top of her head. "Of course."

They stayed that way for a few more seconds, until Diana gently pulled back and tugged him out of the room. She could see the part she would have to play for the next few hours. Richard knew he had to go, and he would go no matter what happened; despite his hesitant steps and anxious mood, he knew what had to be done. It would be Diana's role to push him in that direction, thus ensuring that, despite his unwillingness to go, he would not be able to pick up on her own feelings about his departure.

And she would do an excellent job as well, she knew that already. The rest of the family had gotten into the carriage and were waiting to depart, but the servants had gathered around the door and were waiting to say goodbye. Richard helped Diana into the carriage and John climbed up to sit next to the driver, already in uniform and only slightly paler than the last time she had seen him. Diana watched Richard shake hands with and embrace footmen, pat the scullery-maid on her head affectionately, exchange a few smiling words with the cook, and willingly accept the hands of a few of the maids who had gathered as well. The housekeeper was dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief, and she received a kiss on the cheek for her woes – Richard had known her since he was a little boy. None of them moved, even after Richard had climbed into the carriage beside her and they had started to move. It was only the weak daylight that made them eventually disappear from their view.

She turned back to him, and saw that he looked troubled. "Are you alright?" asked Diana worriedly.

Richard smiled at her words and drew an arm around her. Diana rested her head against his chest, the ache in her heart easing slightly. They still had some time, after all. She felt him kiss her hair. "Not particularly," he murmured. "I did not expect saying goodbye to be so hard."

"Everyone loves you," Diana reminded him gently. "And you love them all too. Of course it would be hard."

"Then saying goodbye to you is going to be excruciating, isn't it?"

Diana blinked at his casual tone. "Oh, don't say that, Richard."

"You're thinking it too, my dear."

"Saying it won't help at all," she took a deep breath and smiled again. "It has to be done. I won't have your last memory of me being in tears, you know that."

Despite himself, Richard chuckled. "How very vain of you."

"I do have my moments," she smiled. "I only wish the day had been slightly brighter today."

"I don't see how that would have made a difference."

Diana shrugged. "Oh, I would have just felt better, knowing you were leaving in sunshine rather than this storm."

"I won't have you worrying about that," said Richard firmly, and Diana yelped when, in contrast to his tone, she felt him tickle her waist teasingly. She tried to push away from him, giggling despite herself, and saw that he was smiling. "That is a memory I should like to store," he said, keeping hold of her easily with one hand while the other caressed her cheek. "I do love it when you laugh, you know."

"You make me laugh at the silliest things," Diana shook her head indulgently. "I assumed we would have a serious conversation on this journey, you know."

"Why would we do that?" Richard snorted and tugged her back into his arms, burying his face into her neck. "We have to face seriousness outside of this carriage, do we not? I would rather be silly inside it."

"Of course you would," Diana rolled her eyes and edged away from him slightly, smiling at his look of annoyance. "You will wrinkle your uniform, _and_ my dress. Lord knows what the other officers will think."

"They will applaud my ingenuity, I assure you," Richard smirked wickedly and refused to let her move from where she was crushed against his side. "Would you deny me something so small, wife?"

Diana raised an eyebrow. "And what exactly is it that you want?"

Richard smile went from mischievous to gentle, and he tugged her closer. "Many things," he murmured quietly. "But for now, keep this," he pressed something into her free hand, and Diana saw that it was a key.

"The key to your desk drawer?" Diana raised an eyebrow. "That isn't a very romantic gift."

"I know," Richard kissed her forehead. "It contains some important papers I hope you will never need. They're addressed to my father, but the packet on top is for you. My father has the other key, but I wanted to make sure you had one."

Diana tried to push the key back into his hands. "Richard, we are not discussing the will again."

"It isn't a will," he shook his head immediately. "It's something else. Promise me you will look at it when you go home."

Diana caught his eye and saw the earnest look he was giving her. She sighed. "Of course I will."

"Thank you," the look of relief on his face made her bite her lip, but he merely squeezed her hand. "I'll be back before you know it, you know."

"I know," lied Diana. She leaned back against his chest and looked out the window of the carriage. They were moving at a brisk pace. Unfortunately, no crowds were going towards the docks today. "It is a long time, though," she said quietly. "Eight months could feel like forever."

Richard hummed in agreement. "Eight years certainly felt like forever."

Diana felt her eyes begin to sting, even as she huffed. "Really, you want to bring that up _now_?"

Richard looked upset and offered her his handkerchief, and Diana took it from him. But she didn't wipe her eyes, merely fidgeted with the small white square as she continued to stare out of the carriage determinedly. "I merely want to point out that we got through eight years without each other, with no hope of ever meeting again or any of this happening," he tilted her face back towards his, smiling at her. "Surely eight months will feel like a few days in comparison?"

Diana's lower lip quivered. "I don't want a comparison," she mumbled. Without invitation, she buried her face into his chest, her resolve crumbling as soon as she remembered what it had felt like the day she had found out he had sailed away for the first time, only one night after proposing to her. Her heart had shattered into a thousand fragments that day, and just as she had felt it beginning to repair itself here he was, leaving her in pieces again. "I wish you didn't have to go," she whispered.

"I'm sorry," he whispered back.

"So am I," Diana wiped her eyes and sighed. "I promised myself I wouldn't cry today."

"I would have probably been slightly offended if you didn't cry at some point," said Richard sheepishly. Diana smiled, but her expression froze when she heard someone yelling outside, and the carriage began to slow down. They were almost at the docks.

Immediately, Diana knew she was not prepared to let Richard leave to an uncertain future. Her hands tightened around the lapels of his coat, and she looked at him fearfully. His own expression was carefully devoid of any feelings, but his hands were warm and steady when they enveloped her own. He did not try to make her let him go.

"It's alright," he said softly. Diana almost did not hear him over the blood rushing into her head, making her head spin. "I will come back, Diana. I promise, I will."

"Don't make me a promise you can't keep, Richard," said Diana. Her voice sounded foreign to her own ears – had she really said that? How was her voice not shaking? Her entire body was; she saw an expression of fear cross Richard's face, and he gathered her into his arms more securely. The carriage was still moving, albeit slowly, which meant they still had time. But it was not enough. It could _never_ be enough.

"I'll keep this promise," he said softly.

"You're saying that so I don't cry again."

"I'm saying it because I will come back," he murmured soothingly. "I have never had anyone to come back _to,_ Diana. This time it is different."

"But your family –"

"My family each have someone in their lives that they love more than me," he interrupted gently. "I accepted it a very long time ago. My parents, Henry and Emily, they may not survive the loss of each other but they would survive my loss."

"I wouldn't," whispered Diana. Richard turned his face away from her, his expression pained, but she persisted. "And you're wrong. Everyone in that house loves you so much more than you can imagine. I won't have you think otherwise."

"Of course," Richard smiled and kissed her forehead.

And then the carriage stopped moving.

Diana held her breath. Richard's hands stroked her hair. They did not need to speak – he smiled at her again, coaxing her without words to focus on him, and nothing else. And Diana found it easy, _so_ easy to forget her surroundings when he was near. So, when the carriage door opened and he slipped out of her arms momentarily to step out first, she followed him blindly, latching onto him as soon as her feet touched the ground. Richard large hand wrapped around smaller one, keeping her next to him. Diana was close enough to hear him speak to John quietly, as he gave him instructions about their luggage. As her footman hurried past, impulsively Diana reached out a hand and touched his arm.

John stopped immediately. "Ma'am," he jerked his head, his shoulders stiff. His eyes were focused on a point above her shoulder.

Richard was tugging at her hand, gently pulling her away, but Diana stayed still. John had worked for her for years. He had arrived as a kitchen-boy when she had first gotten married to Charles, and she remembered seeing him sitting at the servants' table quietly when she used to sneak down to the kitchen for a cup of coffee, a treat forbidden to her by her mother-in-law, but one which the cook was always willing to make for her. He had been a mere boy then, but Diana had grown attached to him because he had seemed completely unaffected by all the grandeur around him. It had reminded her of Richard. It had been an easy decision to ask him to leave with her from the Herbert household when she had first left for Matlock, and John had not even hesitated in accepting. And now here he was, dressed in a uniform and pale as a corpse. He did not want to go, she knew that, but he knew his duty. Her heart ached.

"Will you promise me you will be safe, John?" she asked. It was childish, to say such a thing, but already her heart felt a little lighter after Richard's promise. False it may be, but it would help her cope. She had not allowed herself to think about John leaving before now, because she had not wanted to consider how much she had grown used to his presence in her sitting-room, her dining-room, even the foyer when she entered the house. He was stoic and polite, even now as he prepared to leave, but Diana had seen him smile at her, often, and she had always flattered herself that he was fond of her.

He looked down at her suddenly, and Diana saw that his eyes were glistening. He cleared his throat. "Yes, ma'am, I will try my utmost," his eyes flickered to the ground immediately when he was done speaking. He was so like Sarah in that way, unwilling to look his employer in the eye for too long. Diana held out her free hand, and John hesitated for only a moment before accepting it. Diana felt her tears come back when, instead of shaking it, he held it between both of his and looked at her again, this time with a smile. "And I'll look after him too, ma'am," he added, with the same look in his eyes that Diana remembered from her dinner parties, when she would say something outrageous in front of all her friends and he would have to resist the urge to laugh as he served them tea.

Finally, Diana allowed Richard to pull her away. The whole family was around them now, and Elizabeth's expression was similar to Diana's – slightly dazed, and eyes red with repressed tears. She was clinging to Darcy, but offered Diana a small smile when she caught her eye. Diana tried to smile back, just as Richard took a step forward hesitantly towards his father.

Diana did not hear what they were saying. A small part of her wanted to stand with Richard and offer him some comfort as he said goodbye, but she did not. For her, the wound was still too raw. She desperately wanted to do her duty as a wife, a daughter, a sister, but she could not do it all at once. Taking a deep breath, she looked away. A hand touched her elbow, and she saw Henry standing next to her.

"Come now, it won't be for long," he said kindly. Diana sniffed. Henry grasped her free hand. "If you cry, I cry," he warned. "We'll make him the laughingstock of the regiment at this rate."

Diana gasped out a laugh at his words. Henry smiled at her expression, just as Richard turned away from saying goodbye to Darcy and Elizabeth. He saw them and smiled, and Diana wiped at her eyes discreetly before smiling back.

She did not hear him say goodbye to Henry. He was holding her hand again, and she tried to memorize the feel of his palm, his knuckles, the pads of his fingers. Unaware of what she was doing, Richard turned to her and softly touched her face, coaxing her gaze up to meet his. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pressing another kiss to the top of her head. "I should have kissed you properly in the carriage," he murmured quietly, so only she could hear.

"You'll just have to come back soon to claim that kiss," whispered back Diana. Richard chuckled and drew back, and she forced herself to let him.

"I will hold you to that," he said. His eyes were dry. Diana was relieved. She fought back tears and ducked her head, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. Richard squeezed her fingers. "None of that," he murmured. "Look at me, Diana," she obeyed, and his expression was oddly calm. "I will come back. You have my word."

"Thank you," she said. Her voice sounded as though she had run all the way to the docks from the house, she was so breathless. Her heart was pounding, and she felt slightly faint. She needed to sit down, but not yet. Slowly, she loosened her grip on Richard's hand, until it was he who was holding onto her, and not the other way around. "Go," she forced herself to say. Richard did not move. Diana bit her lip. "Go," she said again, softer this time. "I'll be here when you come back."

 _"_ _When,_ not if," reminded Richard. He dropped her hand and took a step back.

Diana smiled a watery smile. "When, not if," she agreed softly. "Goodbye."

"Goodbye," he addressed them all, but he only looked at her. Diana raised a shaking hand in farewell, and slowly, painstakingly, Richard began to back away, never breaking her gaze. John was now next to him, stoic as ever, but his face was drawn, tense before even reaching the battlefield. Suddenly, someone in uniform came up to Richard, who was forced to look away as he spoke to him. As his eyes slipped from hers, Diana felt a sharp pain in her chest and she reached blindly for Henry's arm, gasping slightly for breath. Immediately, she was offered the support she desperately needed, and she leaned heavily on her brother-in-law as, silent and tight-lipped, they all watched Richard walk away, his back to them.

Diana finally broke down into hysterics as soon as he was out of sight.

* * *

 **Well, this is it... Special thinks to HarnGin, Maggs, .31, Gaskellian, Jansfamily4, Motherof8, Deanna27 and KurukiXV for your reviews last chapter. I'm not sure how this turned out. I have been so emotionally spent with this whole story that I didn't quite know how to end it, which is why it took so long for me to get a chapter out. And, in all honesty, I wasn't ready for it to end. But it has, and now it's up to you: a few months gap and a sequel, or would you like an epilogue before it? I can do both, and I've already started on the sequel, but I don't know how much you're willing to put up with waiting for the time being, so I'll be waiting for your comments.**

 **It's been a journey and a half, and I am currently too emotional and overwhelmed to realize what has just happened. Let me know how you felt, if you were pleased, disappointed, annoyed etc. He had to go, I'm afraid, even though I know some of you were hoping he could stay. Alas, that was not meant to be. But never fear, if there's a sequel involved you know there's something to look forward to!**

 **Once again, thank you all for reviewing, favouriting and following this story. Keep me on author alert if you haven't already, if I find the sequel taking too long I will post some out-takes of the pre-story time, before Richard and Diana got engaged etc.**

 **That's all for now. I need a few minutes to myself now, I think, to digest the ending. I'm sad, and I feel what Diana feels 100%. The question is, did you?**

 **Much love xxxxx**


	66. Letters

_My dearest Richard,_

 _I have been told that couples, when courting, often write to each other, whether under the guise of relations' names or by asking for permission. I must say it feels very strange to address a letter like this to my husband rather than my betrothed, though not in a bad way. It certainly gives me the freedom to discuss many things I otherwise could not, and use such words which may be unseemly for an unmarried woman to utilize, but I am sure you will not mind._

 _I pray this message finds you well. Henry tells me it will be difficult for my letters to continue to go out with the regularity at which I plan to write them, but I would prefer that you receive as many as possible before conditions in France worsen. Do not try and persuade me that they will not – my father-in-law is quite willing to discuss the war in front of me, as he is of the opinion it would do me good to think of things other than music and painting. Mamma strongly disagrees with him, but I am of a similar mind. I confess I find less and less joy in music without you standing by me to profess (exaggerated) admiration, and my hands shake too much to draw for very long._

 _It would be too much of a lie to say that I barely feel the loss of your presence. Even as I write this, I hardly believe it myself and I am sure you would be able to notice the falsehood . Indeed, I feel it most acutely. I know it has only been two days since you left, and I send you this letter now from Matlock because the cloud that hung over me whilst we were in London would not allow me to write anything. Had I begun to compose my first letter immediately, it would then feel as though you really had gone, and I was not ready to accept that. I do not say this to distress you, since you surely have more distractions than I do, and you can afford to spend your solitary hours not thinking of me. I have no such luxury. Sarah has taken to keeping by my side and chattering on and on, just to keep my mind occupied, though perhaps it is more for her own sake than it is mine._

 _My aim via these letters is to remind you that you have a wife who misses you dearly, and I hope these reminders will ensure you do everything within your power to return to me as soon as you can. However, I am willing to devote at least half of my notes to trivial goings-on, which may serve to lighten your spirits should you need something mindless to focus on. As I am in Matlock now and did not get to discuss social matters with Elizabeth properly, the Darcys will rejoin us here in a fortnight, after which we are to return to London and prepare for the season. As you know, there is much to do as it will serve as Georgiana's coming-out and Elizabeth's first season in town as well. Henry and Emily are still determined to go on their trip and will depart soon after we leave. I had expressed a desire to remain at Matlock with the children, but today I received a letter from my mother, and she is most anxious to spend part of the season with me in London to keep my spirits up after your departure. Being the dutiful daughter I am, I have agreed to rent apartments for her in Curzon Street so she may enjoy her independence – and I mine. This dulls my enthusiasm, but being in London myself will allow me to help Georgiana and Elizabeth, and though I know you may feel I am sacrificing my comfort by doing this, the distraction may be helpful after all. Time will pass quickly if I am engaged often, and I find myself willing to accept any and all invitations, provided they are agreeable. Only today I received a very kind letter from Cecelia Hart, full of well wishes and affection. What an excellent creature! I will be sure to visit regularly when I return to London and will, of course, pass on your affections to the family._

 _I need not tell you that the whole house misses you, especially your mamma. But I will not dwell on that now. You must write to me soon, and assure me that you are well, but utterly miserable without me and can do nothing except think of me all the time. Again, Henry has been kind enough to inform me you will not be able to write back as often as I would like you to, but that is not something I will focus on. It will do me good to get up in the morning and have something to look forward to, though letters may be scarce. Do not feel as though you must respond with the promptness I so often demand in all other aspects of our life, being at war does offer you certain excuses. I must insist on correspondence when you can manage it, however, even if it is just a few lines, to assure me of your health and relative happiness._

 _Unfortunately, I must go, otherwise I would write you pages more. Emily desires my advice with packing for her trip, little Henry is most anxious that we sketch the litter of puppies one of the tenants has brought to show him, Sarah is demanding my attention regarding something or the other she will no doubt eventually do without me, and I am engaged to play for your father tonight, so I must practice lest I embarrass myself. I wonder, would you still love me if I had no artistic talent whatsoever, or is a highly accomplished wife something you find yourself often boasting about?_

 _Take care, my darling. Give John my love and look after yourself. I cannot express myself adequately in words, only know that I will be praying for your safe return every moment of every day that we are apart. God bless you._

 _All my love  
DIANA FITZWILLIAM_

 **{-}**

 _My love,_

 _I assure you, I will do my utmost to respond to your letters with the readiness they so deserve. In addition I must agree with you, it is strange to be writing to you like this. Most men know what their wives' handwriting looks like upon marriage. I may be well-acquainted with your drawing, but not your writing. I hope you will not consider it more exaggerated admiration if I say it is just as beautiful as I imagined it to be._

 _We have reached France now, which is why I find myself hurrying to finish this letter so you may receive it promptly and be at ease. I see what you have tried to convey, and I will freely admit that I spent the entire journey here and the few hours we have been on shore now thinking about you. It is not a fine position for a senior officer to be in, but most of the men know I am newly married, and are very gracious if I ask them to repeat their words a few times if I have not been listening._

 _I would prefer it if you did not engage with news of the war effort too much. You should be aware that often the reports in newspapers do not reflect the situation at the front adequately. If you must, however, I believe it will be safe for you to get your information directly from my father or Henry, or even Colonel Hart if you would favor that avenue. He is a fine man, and his wife is truly a lovely woman. I am glad you plan to continue the acquaintance with her. I have also placed a wager against Hart on how long it will take young Lennox to ask his sister for her hand. Be so good as to collect my winnings when you hear the news, I am confident I shall win._

 _You say I have adequate distractions and they will keep me from thinking of you all the time, so in defense of my love I feel I must convey how wrong you are. The blue of the sea pales in comparison to your eyes, the French accents are harsh and foreign when I remember your own sweet voice saying the very words I hear now, and to fall asleep without you next to me is enough to leave me in a state of acute despair for weeks on end. You must not say I will not miss you, for that is a lie indeed, and one I will be quick to catch should you attempt to say such a thing again._

 _I appreciate your attempts to brighten my spirits, and I would hope you do not plan to inconvenience yourself too much during my absence. Indeed, if I had stayed it may have been us departing for the Lakes instead of Henry and Emily, though if this bloody war hadn't been going on I assure you, I would have taken you to Paris first._

 _I fear I must take your leave, for there is much to be done and John will require some guidance for the first few days. Tell Sarah not to worry too much about him, he knows to stay close to me and we will return to you both as soon as we can. Until then, look after yourself, Diana. I do not need to tell you how much it would pain me to return and find you worse for wear. And remember, do use the key I left you. Until we meet again, my love._

 _Yours  
MAJ. GEN. RICHARD FITZWILLIAM_

* * *

 **Hi again! So, not sure this counts as an epilogue exactly - I've been struggling to figure out exactly what that is, but I thought these letters would be a nice bonus ending and a good way to tie up some things before we move on to the sequel. I have started working on it, and while I still don't think it'll be uploaded for a while, I think I may be ready to start another story about Diana and Richard prior to their engagement. So, how they met, how they became friends, and maybe even how the infamous first proposal ended up happening in the end. I would love to know what you guys want to see in that story! I'm sure you're aware by now that the sequel will have significantly less Richard in it since he's away, and I don't want to deprive you all of our favorite pair for too long! So, do let me know, and do review and tell me how much you miss these two, because I know I do!**

 **Much love to all, readers and reviewers alike. Can't wait to start the next part of this journey with you all. xxxx**


	67. New Story alery!

**Hello, all!**

 **Just a quick update to tell you that, while progress on the sequel of this story is indeed slow and steady, I have begun work on the prequel I promised! Honestly, it's just to ensure you all don't suffer too much from a lack of Diana and Richard and all our favourite Regency characters. The story is called** ** _Echoes_** **and will be available on my profile within the next day or two, along with a longer AN and info on a new Pinterest page!**

 **Here's a little promo, to keep you guys interested. The story begins with Richard and Diana's first meeting, after she and her mother move to London following the death of her father. This is also prior to Richard joining the army. The story should clear everything out background-wise, but there will be little explanations at the beginning of each chapter. Each chapter will also work as a stand-alone story, so the updates may be spaced out but they will be quite long (the first one is around 5k+ words). I'll also include hints from this story, since I've mentioned instances from their past quite a bit that I'm keen to explore further.**

 **The teaser, as promised:**

 _"_ _We expected you to be a terror," said Richard bluntly, even as Henry not-so-discreetly nudged him in the side. Richard ignored him, fixing Diana with a look. "Are you?"_

 _"_ _My mother seems to think so," said Diana, keeping her voice even._

 _"_ _I assure you, we did not mean –" began Henry hastily._

 _"_ _That's alright," Diana waved away his apologies. "I do not want to be here, Mr. Fitzwilliam, that is no secret."_

 _"_ _Here in London, or here in our home?" asked Richard._

 _Diana shrugged one shoulder. "What does it matter? I am here now."_

 _"_ _Precisely," said Henry hastily. "Richard, where are your manners? She is our guest."_

 _"_ _Of course. My apologies," he did not sound apologetic in the slightest. Diana glanced at him curiously, and saw that he was smirking. She noticed that his eyes were a particularly nice shade of hazel, like melted honey. She decided she rather liked the colour._

 **Anyway, this update is to basically make sure you all know something new is coming up, and to keep me on Author Alert in case you haven't so you don't miss out. See you soon! Much love xx**


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